


Cross-Court Strike!!

by powerdragonmoon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien and Marinette go to different schools, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Volleyball, Competition, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, High School, Human Plagg, Human Tikki, Miraculous Haikyuu, OCs - Freeform, Please don't hurt my OCs, Slightly-Aged Up Characters, Some angst, Sports, Tournaments, Vastly different versions of the Kwamis, Volleyball, Volleyball AU, no powers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerdragonmoon/pseuds/powerdragonmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette Dupain-Cheng is starting out her first year at Lycée Dupont, an all girls school, excited for a fresh new start and a chance to make new friends. But most of all she’s excited to go to a school with its very own gymnasium! You know what that means? Volleyball! Now all she needs is the courage to try out for the team! However things don’t go as planned when it turns out a familiar face from college ends up in her class.  </p>
<p>Meanwhile, model Adrien Agreste has finally convinced his strict father to allow him to attend school.  The transition from homeschooling and private tutoring to public education doesn’t go quite as smoothly, but Adrien is eager to make new friends and finds himself intrigued by a sport that proves to be more challenging than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s first year at Lycée Dupont did not go as quite as planned. Then again Marinette had become accustomed to her awful luck making a mess of things. That being said, Marinette was looking forward to a new school. Her head was brimming over in the possibilities for new friends and adventures. Sure, she wasn’t too keen on the early mornings, but a summer of helping her parents out at the bakery had gotten Marinette used to the theory of waking up early.

It seemed that a summer of early wake up calls, coupled with the anticipation for the start of something new, Marinette awoke a full 10 minutes before her alarm was even poised to ring. She briskly got herself ready, having set out her school uniform the night before. Ready for the day, she greeted her parents down in the bakery before making her way to Lycée Dupont.

This time last year, Marinette would still be in bed snoozing through her alarm. Marinette chuckled to herself at the memory, but that was collége Marinette, starting today, things were going to amazingly different! _Make way Paris, there’s a new Marinette in town!_

The walk from the Boulangerie to Lycée Dupont took no more than 10 minutes – even at the slow pace Marinette was going. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her and she tried to elongate the journey for a bit longer. Clenching her fists, she pushed back her anxiety as she made her way to the school.

_Early on the first day, this is a first! … maybe a bit too early?_ Marinette thought as she entered the empty classroom.

_ACK! Where is everyone?_ panic erupted within her thoughts. _Am I a complete weirdo for being here so early?_ But then again she passed lots of students on her way to her classroom… _AM I IN THE RIGHT CLASSROOM?!_ She glanced up to the door and confirmed that yes, she was where she was supposed to be.

Looking around, she decided if anything had time to select the perfect seat. She settled into an empty desk. Besides the itchiness of her school uniform’s skirt, Marinette was feeling comfortable in the new setting and glanced around her new classroom with a smile on her face.

She peered down to her backpack and started to unzip it to grab out her sketchbook and a pencil. She had to fill the time up before her follow classmates joined her and needed to calm the nerves that had started to creep their way back into her mind – sketching and designing had always been a calming balm that soothed Marinette and gave her hands something to due other than fidgeting away.

As she rummaged through her bag her imagination began to travel, thinking of layered skirts, textured fabrics, and lace cutouts. This growing sense of contentment was abruptly interrupted by the smack of a hand on the desk in front of her.

This abrupt interruption caused Marinette to jump in her seat and raise her head from her backpack. Her spatial awareness seemed to fail her as she promptly banged the back of her head against her desk.

“Marinette. Dupain. Cheng…” sneered a familiar voice, punctuating each word with haughty arrogance. Jarred, Marinette rubbed her the back of her head, causing her hair to become slightly disheveled. Even with her eyes closed, she could recognize who it was that called her name. Marinette let out a quiet sigh, opening her eyes and turned to face Chloé Bourgeois, the Mayor’s daughter, whose ice-cold eyes glared down at her.

What was Chloé doing at Lycée Dupont? During their last weeks of collége, Chloe had told anyone and everyone that she would be going to the same lycée as her boyfriend. There had been a week in Marinette’s life that she would never get back, in which Chloé talked nonstop about how perfect she and her boyfriend were and how amazing it would be to finally be in the same class as him.

Marinette had found comfort in knowing that Lycée Dupont was an all-girl school, meaning that Chloé would definitely be enrolled in a different school. And after three long years of dealing with Chloé at collége Marinette was so excited for a fresh start at a new school with no constant barrage of heavy-handed insults... yet here was Chloé, still with her blonde hair swept up into her signature ponytail and blue eye shadow. _She’s not even wearing the school uniform!_ Marinette pondered as she stared back down at her lap at her own scratchy skirt. _Maybe she’s not enrolled here, maybe she’s just stopping by for one last torment before the school year officially starts!_

“Not again…” muttered Marinette under her breath, tightly clenching her fists. She looked up at Chloé and tried her best to strengthen her voice, “Chloé, what are you doing here? Um, I thought you had decided to go to the same lycée as your, um, boyfriend…?”

“Yeah, well Adrikins and I belong to the high class of society. Meaning that we get the best of the best as is deserved.” Chloé scoffed, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder, “Adrien’s father had him enrolled at Lycée François, and I was supposed to go there as well – because duh! Daddy tried, but that silly school board for some reason said it would not be possible – even though I’m Paris’ sweetheart. Seriously, the nerve!”

_Hmmmm, probably because_ _Lycée_ _François_ _is an all-boys school Chloé!_ Marinette thought to herself, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

Chloé, seeming to enjoy the continued drone of her voice, continued, “Anyways, Lycée Dupont is one of the most prestigious schools in all of France – although your admittance here seems to have tarnished that reputation. As such Daddy had me enrolled here. Plus this school is pretty close to Lycée François and it has its own gym and you know what that means…”

_Ugh._

Marinette knew what Chloé was implying. For three years, Chloé was the captain of their collége volleyball team and loved to rub her “success” in Marinette’s face.

_Volleyball…_

Marinette loved the sport; even though she knew her abilities were quite unpredictable. But that first time Marinette entered gym class to see the teacher cranking taut the netting, she was intrigued. The crisscross of the net reminded her of the knitting patterns she had recently mastered and the poles holding the net up where akin to knitting needles. The volleyballs themselves reminded her of the pincushions she had at home that she used when putting together her designs.

She remembered her first time catching a volleyball and being surprised by its lightness only to be later surprised by the aching burn that was felt on her forearm when she learned how to bump the ball.

However, if anything Marinette was not known for her grace or athleticism. Which made her an easy target for Chloé to exploit. Chloé quickly rose as a natural athlete, dominating the court with the air of a megalomaniac.

Marinette, could visualize what she needed her body to do in order to receive incoming volleys from across the net, but her body never seemed to be in sync. Her limbs would flail and she would trip over her own feet. But even in failure, her arms, while reddened from repeated impact, would tingle with a pleasant sensation that masked any underlying pain.

Try as she might Marinette only made it onto her collége volleyball team in her final year. Even then she was constantly benched – most likely due to Chloé and her father’s influence on the team’s coach. And while being on a team with some of her friends had been fun, the bonding experience never felt quite right with the constant streams of critique from Chloé on everyone’s “poor technique”.

Nevertheless, Marinette skills did improve with every practice, and while she barely played during exhibition matches, she did end up developing quite a serve herself.

In between Marinette’s reflections, she felt the added presence of someone sitting down in the seat next to her. Looking over she realized it was none other than Sabrina, Chloé's “friend” or maybe the better term was sidekick or henchman? _hench-girl?_

Peeking around the classroom, Marinette also became aware of the arrivals of several students, many of whom gave Chloé a wary glance, as they seemed to already be aware to keep their distance. _Well, looks like Chloé is making a good first impression for the both of as,_ Marinette sarcastically thought as she caught the eyes of some of girls entering the room gave them a half-heartened smile. In the meantime Chloé continued to rant.

Now she was complaining about the seating arrangements of the classroom, “We have to share a desk with someone? How absurd! Doesn’t my father pay this school enough that they should be able to afford an individual desk for me?”

“You’re so right Chloé. It’s totally absurd,” chimed Sabrina. “But at least this way we can sit together!”

Marinette’s eyes glazed over as Chloé continued to chatter on, throwing in as many insults and complaints into her monologue, shouting to Sabrina that she might consider sitting with her, if she should be so lucky. _Right lucky,_ thought Marinette.

“Anyways I suppose I’ll sit with you Sabrina,” Chloé eventually said. “At least that way, it’ll be easier for us to work together.”

_More like have Sabrina do all your work for you._ Marinette concluded, knowing full well Chloé barely did any of her own homework.

Marinette had been so excited to go to a new school, new friends, a fresh start, and most of all…

_Volleyball_

Volleyball in the school’s own gym. Her last school didn't have a gym, few schools in Paris had the space. So gym class and volleyball practices were generally held out in the school’s courtyard or on special occasions in the closest rec centre. But here at Lycée Dupont the gym was right there!

Marinette could imagine the possibilities – she had all summer to do so.

Daily practices, proper gym time.

A chance to actually make it on the school team.

A team without Chloé.

Those dreams were promptly broken now that Chloé seemed to be an ever-persistent presence in her life. _Fourth year in a row, what bad luck_.

Now Chloé was prattling on about how she would be talking to her father immediately about the school’s uniform, “Red is so not my colour and it’s definitely not your colour Marinette!” she scoffed. “Thank goodness Daddy told the principal that I’m allergic to plaid, I mean honestly, how can they expect us to wear these drab clothes everyday!”

Sabrina, ever Chloé's  shadow, nodded in agreement, adding little to the one-sided conversation as Chloé continued to barrel on. Marinette’s thoughts drifted, _Why is she even talking to me? – She must really like the sound of her own voice._

Eventually, the blonde’s hand slammed down on again Marinette’s desk, smacking her out of her daze. “Anyways, as I was trying to say, this is _my seat_. So if you don’t mind, please take your awful bag and tacky self out of it. You can settle yourself over there next to four-eyes.” She pointed across the classroom to a bespeckled girl with long wavy hair. The girl must have heard Chloé's  taunt, as her glasses flashed as she perked up from her phone. She challenged Chloé's  arrogant stare with a glare of her own.

The girl across the room stood up and marched towards Chloé. She crossed her arms and confidently stated, “I couldn’t help but overhear, but I’m pretty sure these seats are not assigned. We’re in lycée, not ecole primaire. It’s first come first serve and all that, you know… the early bird gets the worm.”

“Pfffft, whatever. Was I even talking to you? Why don’t you mind your own business, nerd.” Chloé jeered.

“Oh – hahaa – nerd? I get it, cause of the glasses, huh? Why don’t you grow up!” replied the girl with the glasses, before she smiled down at Marinette and with sincerity said, “If you’d like you can sit with me!”

Amazed by this girl’s utter boldness, Marinette nodded her head, grateful for the chance to escape Chloé. Marinette gathered her belongings and sidestepped around Chloé.

On her way over to the offered seat, Marinette awkwardly stumbled over her own feet, loosing balance and dropping her bag, scattering her belongings across the floor. This was followed by the jeering laughs of Chloé and Sabrina.

The girl with the glasses helped Marinette gather her things, to which Marinette voiced many thanks. Eventually she was settled down at another desk, shared with her rescuer, who picked up her phone from her pocket and paused, before turning to Marinette, “I’m Alya by the way.”

Marinette smiled widely and returned, “Marinette.”

“Well Marinette, don’t let that girl and her buddy get to you. People like her are able get away with being jerks if we stand by and do nothing. Sometimes we have to find our inner hero and stick up for ourselves. So be confident! If anything, I got your back girl!”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open in awe, and faintly responded, “Thanks Alya!”

“No problem, it’s just like in the comics, sometimes heroes gotta team up to take on the big bad. And we can’t just let anyone walk all over us, you know what I mean?” Alya continued, “Or like in volleyball, you know? It’s like Giba said, ‘When you fight in the match, you fight to win!’… like sure there’s more to the quote and blah blah blah, but the point still stands! Don’t let the opponent push you over, you gotta fight to win.” As she spoke she glanced down at her phone, pulling up a video, pressing play and aiming her screen towards Marinette.

On the screen was footage of a volleyball game. It was a compilation of some majorly amazing volleyball rallies that in particular focused on a tall caramel-skinned man in a bright yellow and green uniform. Over and over it showed the man leaping through the air – like a bird taking wing! – and swinging his arm, full of both grace and power, in spiking the ball. Most of the time the blockers didn’t even stand a chance, the ball just zoomed right through them.

_Woah._

“T-that’s amazing! I’ve never seen volleyball played like that!” Marinette dazed in awe at the video.

“Ooooh girl, well let me tell ya, this is just the tip of the iceberg! And Giba is beyond amazing! After class remind me to show you my blog!”

Marinette chuckled as this, already warming up to the idea of being Alya’s friend. Alya was brave and confident, words that Marinette would never use to describe herself. And in terms of what she had said about Chloé, Alya was so right, for years Marinette had let Chloé get in the way of her plans and quite frankly it wasn’t fair.

“Ok,” she responded to Alya. “I would like that!”

The two girls shared the first of many smiles, as the teacher walked into the classroom to start their first lesson of the new school year.

 

* * *

 

The chime of the bells on the entrance door signaled Marinette’s return home from her first day at lycée. From the front till Sabine Cheng looked up expectantly at her daughter, “Marinette! How was school?”

“Bonjour Mama, school was … great.” Answered Marinette somewhat hesitantly. Looking up to see concern flash across her mother’s features. “No, no, it was good Mama. It’s just …” Marinette let out a defeated sigh, “It’s such a big change, but at the same time… it’s not? Like I met a lot of new people, which was nice, it just didn’t go quite as I expected. I thought I would feel older, or different, you know? Finally in lycée, but at the same time I’m still regular, clumsy me… plus this skirt is super itchy.”

Marinette grabbed at her red tartan skirt and glared at it as if it was to blame for her troubles.

“Oh my darling, you aren’t regular at all, you are my beautiful, talented daughter and if anything your – as you say “clumsiness” just adds to your charm”, Sabine beamed encouragingly to her daughter coming out from behind the counter to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder, adding a quick peck to her cheek.

“That’s right!” boomed Tom Dupain, as he popped out from the back kitchen, with a tray of freshly baked croissants in hand. “My daughter is by far the best daughter I’ve ever had, that’s for sure. A solid 10/10 on the ‘how awesome is your daughter scale’ – ten being very very good, by the way!”

“Ugh, well I am your only daughter so I guess you having nothing to compare me too!” Muttered Marinette in frustration, “It’s true though, I’m clumsy, and everyone says so.”

“Well, hi clumsy, I’m Dad!”

“PAPA!!”

“Tom…”

“Ok, fine, sorry. You can call me Superdad!” Tom shouted, placing down the try of croissants on the counter, and then dramatically striking a pose.

“Alright, Superdad, why don’t you call yourself Superbaker and get back to work!” laughed Sabine at her husband, “Honestly, you are lucky you won me over with your baking skills before I realized you had such a terrible sense of humour!”

Tom let out a hearty laugh, “Well, you’re not wrong about that, and I am very lucky to have you both!” He smiled as scoped up his wife and daughter into a tight hug. Marinette put down her backpack on the floor in order to return the gesture. “And don’t think I didn’t hear your guys’ little heart to heart out here without me! I can’t believe my little girl is already in lycée.” Tom pretended to wipe a tear from his eye; “I still remember walking with you to ecole primaire, holding your hand and everything! Now look at you!” He beamed with pride.

“Papa…”

“No, but seriously mon petite, maybe your first day at school didn’t go as planned but you can’t let your expectations get in the way of reality. Things happen, and they rarely go our way, that’s life. While it’s easy to dream things will go our way, reality seems to like to mix things up for us. It’s hard to expect the unexpected.

“Sometimes we expect these big life-changing milestones to occur and sometimes the change takes place overtime and before you now it your daughter has grown up right before your eyes.” Tom spoke as he reached towards the counter to grab a croissant, which he promptly handed to Marinette. “But if you’re feeling this disappointment in how things are going, maybe that’s just life telling you to take matters into your own hands! You can wait around all you like, but inaction will likely not lead to anything.

“Plus this is just your first day of school! I’m sure you’ve made some new friends and that’s always exciting, non?”

“Yeah,” Marinette answered, looking down at the warm croissant in her hand, “actually I did meet a few people. There’s this girl Alya and she actually runs a blog all about volleyball and –“

“Volleyball? Oh, I like her already! Does this mean you’ll be trying out for the volleyball team this year?” questioned her father.

“Um, I dunno? I was planning on it, but I’m not that good…“ Marinette avoided the real reason for her hesitation – _Chloé_  – because to admit that would mean that Chloé got to her, something that Marinette was trying her best to prevent.

Tom looked to his daughter in confusion, “Not that good!? You’re a _Dupain_ -Cheng, and I stress DUPAIN! I may have played some volleyball in my day, and let me tell ya my serves would bruise! You could say that I brought the…” and to this both Sabine and Marinette groaned, ”du-PAIN!”

Sabine chuckled, “Now what did I just say about those jokes of yours!” Shaking her head at her husband’s humour as she made her way back to the bakery’s counter. Once there she began placing the now cooled croissants into a basket. Marinette started her over to help; however she forgot about her abandoned backpack on the floor. Her right foot knocked against her bag tipping her whole body forwards over her feet. The croissant in her hand flew through the air, as Marinette’s arms instinctively shot forward to catch her fall.

“GAAAAH!” she squawked as ungracefully fell to the tiled floor.

The croissant, meanwhile, zoomed towards the front counter and lightly hit Sabine on the shoulder before landing back on the croissant tray upside down. “Oh!” Sabine said, looking down at the croissant, “Well, look at that, how lucky!” and then glancing to her daughter, “Are you alright honey?”

Still lying facedown, in utter defeat, Marinette mumbled, “I’m cursed. I have the worst luck in the world. If I even made the volleyball team I’d probably just end up breaking my leg tripping over myself.”

“Marinette… Don’t let the fear of something stop you from trying! You’re not cursed! Look on the bright side! Your croissant managed to survive the carnage!” Tom announced, “We’ve seen you play, you’re great! If you want to make the team, all you gotta do is practice! Work hard and improve on your volleyball skills, you’ll be MVP in no time!”

Marinette let out a heavy sigh.

“Also get up from the floor, I know the health inspector said he could eat off our floors, but I don’t think he was serious! That can’t be good,” Tom laughed reaching down as Marinette slowly turned over to get up from the floor. Using her father’s offered hand, Marinette stood up.

“Thanks Papa.”

“No problem, my Marinette,” beamed her father.

Brushing herself off and straightening out her skirt, Marinette grabbed her backpack and walked over to her mother. Tom on the other hand stopped briefly by Sabine for a quick peck on the lips before returning back to the kitchen. Sabine smiled at her husband and held out the thrown croissant to Marinette. Accepting the offered bread Marinette said, “Merci Mama,” and huffed as she took a bite of the pastry.

Sabine reached to stroke her daughter’s check, “Darling, don't get caught up in superstitions or nonsense like that! Good luck, bad luck, it’s all just a way for us to brush off responsibilities for our successes and failures or an excuse to justify random happenstance. You remember the story I used to tell you when you were younger, non?”

“Yes Mama,” replied Marinette, softly chewing the croissant.

“Well why don’t I tell it to you again, cause I think you could use a refresher!”

Marinette leaned against the counter beside her mother, bitterly picking away at the croissant as Sabine started to tell the story.

“Well then, this was a story that my wài po used to love telling me, she was a tough lady – sometimes scary tough, but she always knew when I needed a hug. She would have adored you.” Sabine smiled as she continued, “So this story was about a farmer who had an old horse that would help him till his fields. One day, the farmer awoke to find that his horse had somehow gotten out of its stable and was gone. His family lamented the loss – as the family relied heavily on the horse to ensure a good yearly crop. They blamed their misfortune on bad luck.

“The farmer simply stated, ‘Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?’ And a week later that same horse returned to the farm. However it did not come back alone but returned with a herd of wild horses. The family and their neighbours were all surprised and congratulated the farmer on his good luck. Despite this, the farmer only repeated, ‘Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?’

“Now, these new horses to the farm needed to be tamed. The farmer and his son worked hard to get this accomplished. Unfortunately one day the son was bucked off the back of one of these wild horses and broke his leg.

“‘What bad luck!’ everyone exclaimed. The farmer needed all the help he could to upkeep the farm, and now his son would not be in any condition to assist until he had fully healed. But when everyone voiced their concerns on this bad luck, the farmer simply replied…” Sabine looked up to Marinette expectantly.

Marinette crossed her arms, let out a sigh, lips upturn slightly as she said, “’Bad luck. Good luck. Who knows?’”

“That’s right, dear.” Sabine continued the story, “Weeks later, the army entered the village in order to conscript every boy of proper age to enlist in the army. However when they approached the farmer and his family they saw that his son was injured and unfit to be a soldier. Therefore the army left the village and the son was able to remain on the farm with his family.

“Now what do you think that was Marinette? Good luck? or Bad luck?”

Marinette’s stubborn attempts to keep back from smiling were slowly crumbling. Maybe her clumsiness had brought her more fortune than misfortune? She had never really thought to consider that a possibility. She’d heard this story countless of times, but her mother seemed to know it was just what Marinette needed to hear. Sabine patiently waited for Marinette to answer her, and eventually with a wide smile, Marinette shrugged and responded, “Who knows?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head I’m calling this fic Miraculous Haikyuu! :P I've been brainstorming possible titles and eventually settled for Cross-Court Strike not sure how I feel about it just yet... but hey? maybe it'll grow on me. 
> 
> Obviously I just recently started watching Haikyuu! only finished the first season tho, havent read any of the manga so dont spoil it for me please. Also got huge inspiration from ceejles and meru 90 on tumblr and their awesome art: http://ceejles.tumblr.com/post/140986307043/volleyball-au-good-luck-ever-since-that-au-we 
> 
> http://meru90.tumblr.com/post/141149640641/in-continuation-to-this-he-lost-but-they-did-go
> 
> ...like seriously so good!!!! http://ceejles.tumblr.com/post/140757795058/volleyball-au-meru90-and-i-suffered-about-the
> 
> http://meru90.tumblr.com/post/140758997591/ceejles-and-i-have-been-talking-about-n-ladybug
> 
> Also if you're starved for more Volleyball AU and haven't already checked out ArtlessMaroon's fic, please do! http://archiveofourown.org/works/6318394/chapters/14475856  
> Now there may be no magic in this AU, but that won’t stop me from wedging in my own versions of Tikki and Plagg… and maybe vaguely alluding to Chat Noir and Ladybug in some way? We shall see. 
> 
> I’m not entirely familiar with French education, but bear with me – this is my first legit fic. In this AU, Mari and Adrien are in Lycée/High School, and attend different schools. I’ll probably get a few things wrong about French and European culture, but correct me on my mistakes and i'll try my best to fix em! 
> 
> If you'd like send me some feedback on this so far; I’d greatly appreciate it! I’ve outlined out the story for at least 13 chapters, but that’s only for about 1/3 of the story I’ve got in my head. So if you’re patient and willing to stick with me for the long haul this may go on for a while! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also this is un-beta’ed so don’t butcher me for any horrible mistakes! Please be kind to my sensitive inner-writer! And also be warned, I’ve been brainstorming a bunch of OCs, so please be kind to my babies when they enter the story.
> 
> Next time: Perhaps we find out what’s been going on with Monsieur Agreste.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We know how Marinette's first day of lycée went, but how did Adrien's first day go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay – but here’s Ch 2! It took me awhile to really get into the headset of Adrien as I really want to lay down the groundwork of his character... but it's gotten to the point were i'm starting to overthink everything, so i'm going to post this before i over edit everything all over again!!!
> 
> I know that this fic is tagged as fluff, but unfortunately to get to that fluff I gotta address some angst. These first couple of chapters just the foundation and I’m just really excited to get things up off the ground – hope you are willing to join me!

It had taken roughly four years of near-perfect obedience and it had all lead to this. Adrien Agreste was going to school and he could not be more excited about it.

Gabriel Agreste, builder of the world-renowned fashion empire, had taken great care after his wife’s disappearance to ensure the safety of his only son. Adrien was privately tutored at home and enrolled in extra-curricular activities as deemed fit by his father; he attended piano lessons, trained in fencing, and was learning to master the Chinese language, among others. All this combined with becoming the fresh new face of his father’s company had left Adrien with little free time. Everyday was planned out for him – whether he wanted it or not.

At first Adrien had been too grief stricken over his mother’s disappearance to notice the sudden shift in his day-to-day activities, he was simply focusing all his efforts into trying to get through each day – going through each monotonous task without much feeling on the matter.

Adrien wasn’t happy; he was confused and grief-stricken. He knew his father was also experiencing the same pain, but it was clear that Gabriel Agreste had taken to grieving by delving deeper and deeper into his work, leaving both father and son miserable. What Adrien needed was the comfort of a parent, the acknowledgement of what had happened, and answers to questions that he was unable to voice aloud. Even if he could get out the words, it was likely that no one would be around to hear him. Gabriel was rarely around.

 _Does he not want to see me?_ Adrien had thought.

Eventually Adrien rationalized that his appearance must have served as a reminder to his father that his wife was gone. But if that was the case why brand my face all over his company?

Again these were questions he had no answers to. Instead he decided that if he could not please his father with his presence, he could help by following his father’s wishes. So if going to piano lessons were what Gabriel wanted, Adrien would do it. If posing in front of hot bright lights for the newest collection was what Gabriel wanted, than Adrien would do it. If the Chinese language was an important skill that Gabriel felt it necessary for Adrien to master, then Adrien would do that too.

Over the years through, it seemed that nothing could make his father happy, nothing seemed to ease the void that was now present between them. Even worse, it seemed that nothing Adrien did would even garner his father’s attention – something that day-by-day Adrien craved more and more. Because if any word could describe Paris’ famed fashion model prodigy, Adrien Agreste, that word would be –

_Lonely._

Adrien’s interactions with people on an everyday basis ranged from various authoritative figures, such as his father’s distant assistant, Natalie; the Gorilla, his driver and bodyguard who rarely spoke a word, save for the occasional grunt; and the odd eccentric photographer or fashion industry worker.

The only person his own age that was deemed appropriate to occupy a spot in Adrien’s schedule was Chloé Bourgeois, the Mayor’s daughter and Adrien’s childhood friend. Even though throughout the years, Chloé and Adrien’s personalities and interests seemed to divert into different directions, Adrien still cherished the moments he could spend with someone his own age.

Although these days he tended to tune out most of Chloé's  words, as they seemed take on a more venomous tone. While Chloé had always been confident and outspoken in their younger years, these days she always had something to say about other people – and her words were rarely nice.

“Come on Chloé, you don’t really mean that,” Adrien had hesitantly said when Chloe blatantly slandered another one of her acquaintances.

It seemed that according to Chloé's  stories that most of her classmates worshiped the ground upon which Chloe stood. However it seemed that many of them did not receive the same praise from Chloe herself.

Adrien couldn’t understand all the mean words she spewed upon each visit. _Why would Chloé think I’m interested in hearing about the faults of her friends?_ But if anything Adrien was envious of all the friends Chloé had, he just didn’t understand how Chloé could talk of them so…

 _When did you become so cruel?_ Adrien wanted to ask. _Is this how you talk about me to others?_ However, he knew better than to walk down that path. Not only would he upset the only semblance of friendship in his life, but also his father would be displeased if ties to the Mayor were damaged in any way.

“Adrien, you don't understand these people think they’re on _our_ level, and someone has to put them in their place. I mean this girl actually thought she had a chance trying out for our volleyball team! Can you believe it?! It’s all just so ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! I mean this girl can’t even walk across the room without tripping over her own feet!” Chloé laughed haughtily.

“Chloé, there are no levels…” Adrien quietly answered, “And maybe she just needs more practice! And what harm is there in trying your best? It’s commendable to have courage to go to the tryouts in the first place, isn’t it?”

“Oh Adrikins,” Chloé continued, grabbing onto one of Adrien’s arms, “You’re just to kind to people, but you don’t understand, you’ve never been to collége... I mean, I’m going to lycée next year, and if I can’t command the respect of those beneath me than how can I be a proper captain for the volleyball team?”

Adrien sighed, having known Chloé for so long he knew there would be nothing to be gained by challenging her views. Chloé was Adrien’s only friend – even if it wasn’t by choice – he couldn’t find it in himself to contradict her. Besides she was right, Adrien had never gone to collége. And would likely never go to lycée either. He subtly slipped his arm out of her possessive hold.

“Ugh, if only I wasn’t so good at volleyball! Maybe I should look into non-team based sports,” Chloé jeered. “Honestly, it would be so much easier to not have to deal with incompetent teammates. You have the right idea Adrien, in fencing you don’t have to rely on anyone but yourself.”

“Yes, but volleyball sounds like so much fun, I like the idea of being on a team…” Adrien wistfully muttered. “I mean when father had me take basketball lessons, that was always the best part. Working together towards a common goal and doing so with friends.”

 _Friends, or professionals hired to play basketball with you_.

Chloé laughed condescendingly, “Oh Adrien, you are so adorable, but that is not what it’s like at all! At least not on my team, I’m stuck with a bunch of novices, it’s like I have to carry them all on my back just to win a set! Like just last week…”

Chloé quickly returned back to her backbiting, dissecting each and every flaw in the entire roster of her volleyball team. Adrien on the other hand, tried his best to mute her harsh criticisms out.

Even with all her complaints, Adrien wished for nothing more than to school – or to be given the chance to be able to choose to do so. There was only so much Adrien could conform to before he started to resent his father’s orders. Modeling, fencing, Chinese, piano… perhaps if given the choice he would have enjoyed such activities, but the fact that he had no say in the matter started to weigh on Adrien.

There had been an opportunity when Adrien had tried asking his father to allow him to go to school, to make friends, and have some semblance of normalcy in his life. Gabriel had made it quite clear though that Adrien was anything but normal.

“You are my _son_ , Adrien. You will receive the finest private education not attend some mediocre school. Think of your safety, you are a public figure of Paris and a child, you can’t understand the dangers the lie in the outside world. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Father.”

So then when Adrien finally saw his father for what felt like the first time in months, he knew better than to test his luck asking his father to allow him to go to lycée. Gabriel Agreste entered the dining before Adrien was scheduled to leave for another photo shoot. Adrien sat himself up straighter in his chair to match his father’s stern posture. To say his father was intimidating would be an understatement.

“Adrien,” Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement, his greeting seemed more appropriate for a boss greeting an employee as opposed to a father addressing his own son. His demeanour was ever professional as he made his way across the room.

“Father.” Adrien replied, thinking this would be the end of their conversation. Adrien rarely saw him… and when he did it was never for long.

Adrien had assumed that Gabriel had already taken leave of the room, so he was surprised to turn in his chair to see his father had stopped at the door.

“It’s been brought to my attention, Adrien,” said Mr. Agreste turning around to face his son, “that there are certain social advantages to attending school. Mayor Bourgeois has recommended that I look into enrolling you into lycée, and I’m almost inclined to agree. Perhaps a more conventional education would be advantageous, that is if you are able to stand by your other commitments…”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open in shock. He tried to restrain the sudden rush of hope building behind the gates of his mask of composure, but that couldn't stop him from nodding slightly in agreement.

“Of course your modeling contracts will take precedence, and you will continue to attend your Chinese, piano, and fencing lessons. But I have arranged to have Natalie conduct some research into selecting the appropriate school for you to attend.”

Amazed, Adrien found himself floundering for a reply. Finally after what felt like an eternal silence, he found a reply, “Yes, Father.” When really all he wanted was to leap up from his chair and hug his father in gratitude. Instead, he looked down at the table in front of him, feeling his lips give an odd twitch before timidly adding, “Thank you”.

He looked up and his father had already left the room.

It wasn’t until after Adrien had glanced around to make sure that he was once again the only one in the dining room that he allowed himself a small smile.

_I’m going to school!_

He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled without a camera being pointed in his face and being ordered to do so. Under the table he realized his hands were clenched into tight fists of excitement.

Beaming, he glanced around the room waiting for something, anything that would reinforce that this conversation had in fact actually happened. However his smile faltered as the family portrait above the fireplace caught his eye. The large image was set in a thick golden frame. In it, against a lush green backdrop, sat Adrien with his both his mother and father standing behind him each with a hand on his shoulder.

 _Things were different when she was here_.

He raised his left hand up to his right shoulder and sighed.

 

* * *

 

Despite the slow passage of days over next few months, Adrien kept an optimistic view of things. His father never brought up the subject of school again. Sure, he was beyond lonely and bored, but now he had something to look forward to.

Eventually Natalie informed him that his school uniform had arrived for him to get properly fitted.

Adrien loved his uniform; it insured that during his time at school, he would be just like all the other students. The quality of the uniform was still quite luxurious, but the main relief it gave him was knowing he would not stand out in his father’s designs.

He would just be a normal teenager going to school.

_School._

Over the course of the summer he continued to go to photo shoots, all the while imagining being driven to school. He’d get dressed in various outfits and think about how he would have to learn to tie a tie for his school uniform. He attended his piano lessons and would pretend to be accompanied by an entire orchestra of schoolmates. During his Chinese lessons, he’d fill the room with more chairs in his mind and think about being in a proper classroom surrounded by peers. And instead of standing alone against a single opponent in fencing, he envisioned the being apart of a team in gym class.

The excitement had been so great that Adrien had given almost no thought to being nervous. And soon enough the countdown had come to an end and the first day of school had arrived. He would be attending Lycée François, one of the most prestigious schools in all of Paris. It was an all-boys academy. At first seemed odd to Adrien but upon being on the receiving end of the many rants Chloé had laid down over the summer, he had found some relief in knowing they would not be attending the same school.

Not that Adrien didn't appreciate his friendship with Chloé… she was his oldest and only friend. But for once he wanted to be his own person and not continue to be someone else’s doll.

 _Who is Adrien Agreste?_ He thought pensively, as he stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He brushed his teeth as he tried to figure himself out… eventually giving up.

 _Well I may not have an answer, but this year I’m going to figure it out!_ He lightly smirked at his reflection.

He was ready with so much time to spare before he was scheduled to leave, so he re-straightened his tie another time, as he looked around his room, all two-stories of it. Stocked full of the playthings out of any 15-year-old’s dream room, many of the games and equipment displayed around Adrien’s grand room had barely been touched.

 _What good is all this stuff without friends to enjoy them with?_ The room, while large and filled various accoutrements, felt much like the rest of the Agreste mansion, sterile and cold – like a movie set, everything purposefully placed, not truly a lived in. Adrien sat at his desk and rechecked that his school bag was properly prepared before finally making his way to the dining room for breakfast.

As he walked down the empty halls of the house, he pondered on the possibilities of making new friends at school and getting a chance to finally enjoy the various games that filled his room. _I can’t even remember the last time I actually climbed that rock wall_ _– and I know for sure I’ve never used that skateboard ramp_.

Half the things in his room were not even requested by Adrien they were simply added as the years past. Were they supposed to be a distraction to keep Adrien entertained? Or something to continue the charade that everything was just fine in the Agreste Mansion. He rarely had time in between various photo shoots and lessons to put anything to proper use – besides the computer and TV. What good was having a foosball table with no one to play against?

 _Perhaps today all this will change_ , Adrien thought with excitement. If anything just knowing that he would be around other people his age was thrilling. Adrien had long since gotten exhausted over being privately tutored by Natalie. Her teaching style, while effective, was also mind-numbingly boring; her monotone voice lacked any actual interest in the material and did little to inspire Adrien’s thirst for knowledge.

In a way, Adrien understood Natalie’s indifference towards him. She was the assistant to Gabriel Agreste, famous fashion designer, not some overpaid nanny/tutor. He was sure that she felt herself underused by her boss and she too was probably just as frustrated and bored as Adrien.

Thinking back on this, only spurred Adrien’s enthusiasm for the day. He would get to go to school and be taught in a classroom with fellow students, while Natalie could go and use her talents on more productive tasks.

 _School, school, school._ Echoed the pitter-patter of his shoes on the floor. He had no idea what to expect out of the day, something so completely different from his typical rigid schedule. The mystery of it all had him swimming with interest and intrigue.

He bounded down the staircase with a new energy he hadn’t felt in a long time and had to catch himself on the bottom banister from tumbling unto the tiled flooring of the foyer.

He glanced around the house to see if anyone had spotted his bout of frivolity. As he turned around, his eyes caught the somber and overtly large portrait of himself and his father that hung centrally on the wall of the staircase landing. Staring up at the severe, cold-blue gaze of his father’s likeness caused him to reflexively straighten up. Adrien knew his father was probably not home, but he still held on to some hope that maybe he would be present this morning to greet him before he left for school.

And so he slowed himself into a more poised gait, the sounds of his footsteps filled the wide expanse of the mansion’s entranceway as he made his way towards the dining room.

Adrien settled himself at the large table and it wasn’t until he finished up his breakfast that someone entered the room, Natalie, tablet in hand and clearly speaking with someone over her Bluetooth headset. She halted, mid-conversation, to acknowledge him, “Good morning, Adrien, your driver is waiting for us outside, I’ll go over your schedule with you once we are on our way.”

Adrien nodded, promptly collecting his bag and following Natalie as she made her way out of the mansion. As they walked she continued with her discussion over the phone. Her demeanor as always was constant professionalism, stiff and poised, but this morning Adrien could tell by the slightly strained sharpness of her voice and the way her shoulders tensed upwards toward her ears that she was irritated.

As they approached the sleek silver car, where his driver was waiting for him, Natalie ended her call and let out a small sigh – one that Adrien was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear.

However it was only until they were seated in the vehicle and moving that Natalie finally addressed Adrien, “There have been some last minute changes to your schedule Adrien.”

_…_

_oh_

_…_

_kay?_

_…_

“The Saturday photo shoot had to be rescheduled in order to better accommodate the photographer,” she continued. “I have rearranged a few things but your father has sent an email in regards to your schooling…”

 _Oh no_.

“He believes that perhaps…”

_No no no._

“perhaps school is not the appropriate arrangement at this point in time.”

 _Was this seriously happening?_ _I’ve been waiting all summer – no, I’ve been waiting years, **years.** The chance to be somewhat normal. The chance for friendship. How could this be happening? Are we not on the way to __Lycée_ _François?_

Natalie explained, “As it stands for now, we are on our to the shoot. We will likely arrive fairly early and while we wait we can pick up on your curriculum from where we left off. As for the rest of your schedule, I’ve drawn up a rough modified version. We can go over it…”

 _No no no._ The realization that this was indeed happening crashed down upon him.

Adrien suddenly realized how tense the space between his eyebrows had become, how slumped his posture had become, and the heavy breaths that were escaping from his open mouth. He floundered for a moment, trying desperately to collect himself.

Meanwhile, Natalie continued to explain the situation and drone on about the various intricacies to the reconstruction of his weekly schedule.

Gone were the hopeful light blue swatches that identified his time at school, all to be replaced by the same activities as before – modeling, fencing, Chinese, piano – and some new coloured blocks that must have designated activities that Adrien had not been told about.

Adrien could feel his skin pale at the sight of the schedule, as if his body were physically rejecting it like a virus. He turned himself away from the tablet’s glare and looked out the car window – trying to find a distraction in the bustling Paris streets.

_Bad idea._

Littered along the crowds, as if highlighted subconsciously in his mind, Adrien could pinpoint all the children and teenagers making their way to school, collectively participating in a morning ritual that Adrien had so wrongly hoped he would be a part of.

The crease in his forehead intensified and he closed his eyes, shutting out the eager smiles of strangers he would never meet.

His hands lightly gripped the khaki material of his pants on each side of his thigh and he faintly pursed his lips noticing he had been unconsciously chewing the inside of his mouth.

_This is fine._

_This is ok._

He let out a slow breathe.

 _Maybe I’m not supposed to go to school. Its just how it goes…_ _Perhaps this is just my fate._

 _My really, really sucky fate_.

So he straightened himself up against the leather seat, blinked opened his eyes, and set his face to match Natalie’s indifference as he pretended to give her his attention.

Instead he pictured his father being there, delivering this news to him in person. Gabriel would have undoubting used much the same wording and phrasing as Natalie, although his tone would likely be a tad more condescending or would it just be complete indifference? It would all be explained in just so many words, brief and professional, as if Adrien’s dreams were not being smashed before his eyes, as if the carpet wasn’t being pulled out from under him. And Gabriel Agreste would expect him to react without any attachment.

Which just showed how little Gabriel Agreste knew his son.

If Adrien’s mother were here, what would she be saying? Would she be understanding and warm? Would she wrap Adrien up in her arms and comfort him? Tell him that sometimes this is how life goes and we just need to do our best to make the most of the situation?

Maybe…

Or maybe she’d be arguing with Gabriel about being reckless and careless treatment of Adrien’s feelings. Maybe she would be dragging Adrien to school herself.

His mind raced through the myriad of hypotheticals he could come up with, but in the end he realized he’d never know what his parents would have done for sure.

Because they weren’t there with him at all.

 _Where is she?_ The question that Adrien had buried roared out in an angry burst.

His hands clenched into tight fists.

 _This isn’t fate._ Adrien thought.

_This is my father deciding what to do with me._

_This is my mother not being here_.

He knew his father saw him as a child, but why couldn’t Adrien have some say in his life. Why were all decisions made without any thought of what he wanted for himself? What difference did it make to his father whether or not he went to school? What had he said so many months ago, that school would be advantageous to his social development?

_Well, guess it wasn’t that important than is it? If it could all be thrown out the window at the last minute._

Adrien looked up.

Natalie was still talking, taking no notice to Adrien’s inner turmoil. The driver was not surprisingly silent and stayed focused on the road. Out the window the streets were filled with traffic, the sounds and heat of bustling vehicles filled the air.

Adrien glanced back out his side window as the car slowed down due to traffic. Outside on the sidewalk he saw a solitary figure, in what was obviously a school uniform. She was walking at a slow pace almost as if she was lost, fidgeting with her red skirt and adjusting her bag, he could recognize her nervous energy. His vision glazed as Adrien focused on the back of her head, her dark black hair that reflected the morning warm sun transforming it like a prism into a soft azure glint.

He noticed her resolve seem to build up as she smoothed out her skirt. Suddenly she tightened her hands at her sides into fists of determination before transforming her unsure gait into a much more confident walk that carried her forward. She made her way up the stairs of her school.

That would’ve been him outside of a different school, in a very different uniform. If only that photographer’s plans hadn’t impeded on his schedule – but even then, surely something else much like this would have been a cause to impede him from going to school… if not now then surely sooner or later.

If only his father treated Adrien like a son. If only his mother was here.

_If. if. if…_

The car continued forwards. Adrien contemplated his life thus far, a serious of choices made for him. If only he could take fate into his own hands and make a choice and fight for something that he wanted.

He checked his posture, relaxed his shoulders, and ran his hands down the front of his thighs to smooth out the material of his uniform. He glanced forwards to the ahead of the car outside the windshield and saw the upcoming intersection light turn red.

He peered back out his passenger window to try to catch a last glimpse of the girl walking up the school. But she must have already entered the school and gone beyond his field of view. The car had since passed her and the school. Besides that Adrien’s periphery caught something in the corner of his eyes and he refocused on the unpleasant white streak that now embellished the car window.

 _Ah, great. As if my day wasn’t already crappy._ Adrien internally scoffed, his nose itched at the thought of the feathery culprit of car window’s defacement.

He turned back to face Natalie. She was still talking. She caught his eye, and hesitated for a mere moment before delving back into her speech. Adrien didn’t even try to get caught up on the one-sided conversation, his schedule was always being reworked and rearranged – it was all beyond his control. He should have seen this coming in all honestly, but he had been too excited to keep a more realistic head on his shoulders.

Suddenly, Adrien decided maybe today he would make the decision on what he wanted to do, rather then comply with what he was told to do.

The car came to a complete stop as it approached the intersection.

_This is as good a chance as any, I suppose._

_Today, I’m going to do what any normal Parisian teenager should be doing…_

He reached down, undid his seatbelt and grabbed his bag.

_I’m going to school._

Without looking back Adrien opened the car door and ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re enjoying the story so far, like I said I was having a lot of trouble getting into Adrien’s characterization, I just love this little cinnamon bun so much, I hope I’m doing him justice! 
> 
> Also apologies for the lack of volleyball thus far, gah! I’m so excited to get to it tho! Like I said in the opening note, I’m just setting the scene! 
> 
> Let me know what you think so far by leaving a comment! I don’t have a schedule for posting chapters, but my goal is to get two chapters out a week… (which I already failed…!!!) but let’s see if I’m able to get there!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last we saw of Adrien he had made a run for it! But will he make it to school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks, but writing is hard. My appreciation for all the fanfic writers out there has grown exponentially since I started doing this… how do you all do it!?! I bow down before all of you amazing people… I’m trying my best, but it's slow going!

“Based on the projections from last year’s shows, your father would like to – “

SLAM!

Natalie’s head snapped up from the schedule outline on her tablet and her mouth immediately ran dry.

“…Adrien?” She voiced in a mixture of surprise and confusion. The seat next to her in the car was now empty and she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt to slide over to the far window. Peering out she could make out a recognizable mop of blonde hair racing away from the car through the crowd.

She rolled down the window to call out clearly and sternly, “Adrien!”

He didn't turn back.

Natalie was shocked, so much so that even her air of professionalism and indifference seemed to waver for a moment as she called out another time, in a much more sharper tone with a hint of desperation, “Adrien!!”

She couldn’t remember a time where anything like this had ever happened. Adrien was a reserved child, he rarely stepped a toe out of line, let alone jumped out a running car. Flabbergasted, she leaned forward to her co-worker in the front seat.

“Our jobs are on the line if we don't get Adrien to that photo shoot…” she hissed in an eerily calm manner, seemingly able to shift back into her more cool demeanor, “so you better turn this damn car around and chase him down.”

The driver grunted in compliance.

As the car bolted forward, screeching as it made a quick and sudden U-turn, Natalie reached into her pocket for her phone.

 

* * *

 

Adrien ran.

He sprinted as fast as he could and at every corner aimlessly took a turn at random.

He had no idea where Lycée François was.

_I should have thought this through…_

He caught the sight of an alleyway just ahead. He glanced back down the street to see if he was being followed.

He didn’t see a silver car.

The alley seemed to connect directly into the adjacent street, so Adrien took refuge in the dark path and ducked behind a dumpster. He pulled out his phone, hoping to use it to look up directions to the school. However before he could even unlock his phone he stared at it in shock.

Natalie was calling him.

_Crap, crap, crap._

Ignoring the call he looked up the directions to Lycée François, it was about a 10-minute walk away. Now he just had to hope that Natalie and his driver wouldn’t beat him there.

 

* * *

 

It took him less than 5 minutes to get to the school, even with him sticking to back-alleys and random corridors, trying his best to not be seen. So far he had managed to evade any sign of Natalie and his driver, with no sign of the recognizable silver town car.

And now the school was in sight, the vast span of stairs at the entrance stood empty, Adrien checked the time and realized classes must have already started. He huffed and tried to catch his breath as he reached the base of the stairs.

He ignored the lingering guilt of having ran away from Natalie, and tried not to imagine his father’s reaction to his behaviour… but nevertheless he found himself hesitating for a moment as his hand reached for the arm rail.

 _This is what I want._ He thought. _I just want to be a normal teenager._

_I want to have friends._

Emboldened by his anticipation, Adrien began to slowly restart his course up the stairs of Lycée François.

His trek was interrupted by a jarring shove that sent him tumbling up the stairs. He heard the fluttering of falling paper, followed by a long string of expletives, as his arms instinctively flew forward to catch his fall. However the awkward position of falling upwards had Adrien ungracefully stumbling on the uneven ground.

“Oh shit, sorry about that, kid.” came deep flat a voice above him.

Adrien squinted upwards at the figure standing in front of him. The man who had bumped into Adrien on the stairs offered his hand out to help Adrien up. He was incredibly tall, or maybe perhaps this was just greatly exaggerated based on Adrien’s angle from below. Adrien accepted his hand and was roughly wrenched up to his feet.

Standing up, Adrien took in the sight the man in front of him. He was staring at the mess that scattered the stairway entrance and his deep muttering of words filled the aftermath of the fall. His accent was so unique, Adrien couldn’t quite place it, as his words drifted from English to an oddly pronounced French to languages Adrien didn’t recognize. Of the words Adrien was able to understand, his eyes widened in shock at the obscenities and he quickly pressed his lips together to keep himself from laughing. His voice was deep and gravelly, almost as if he was still recovering from a lingering cold or had spent the previous night screaming his lungs out – it rasped like the voice of a 600 year old rock-star/chain-smoker.

“Wait…” Looking down at Adrien’s uniform, “Oh shit! – I mean crap… You’re a student aren’t you? Well just pretend you didn’t hear any of my… let’s say, unsavoury language? Cause I mean technically, the school year hasn’t started, so I’m not your teacher! … at least not yet.”

The tall man in front of him, scratched at his beard, looking somewhat apologetic. His skin was a dark amber brown colour and his wavy dark hair was messily pushed back away from his face with a swipe of his hand. His eyes contrasted against his copper skin, a mossy green that seemed to glare yellow in the morning sun. The man was dressed in a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath and matching black pants – the whole outfit looked like it could use a quick run through with an iron.

Scattered around their feet fluttered a mass of dishevelled papers and books scattered on the stairs. The man let out a large yawn and stretched his long limbs before he hurriedly began to shove crumpled papers back into his bag. Adrien stared at him in shock, before finally following suit. He reaching down to for his own bag, its contents spilled out on the stairs. He carefully swept his belongings back into place.

So this man was a professor at the school… Adrien didn’t know quite how to hold himself. He was so used to being professional and reserved in front of adults, but something about this man’s chaotic nature left Adrien feeling both uneasy and intrigued.  

“Well word of advice, don’t run and text at the same time.” the man groaned as he picked up his phone, its surface marred by a large scratch on the screen. He glanced up to the sky and let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry!” Adrien burst out, feeling guilty about the damaged device.

“Hey, wasn’t your fault, I should’ve been watching where I was going. Plus it’s just a scratch.” The man’s verdant eyes however widened as he stared at the screen, “Oh shit!”

Adrien for sure recognized that profanity; the man was now swearing in French mixed with some broken English, but his French was oddly accented… his vowels were more prolonged, yet in some instances blurred into the next syllable. It was like some sort of piano piece that was being played staccato where it shouldn’t be and legato seemingly at random. Remembering the damaged phone and feeling incredibly guilty about it, “What’s wrong?” Adrien panicked, “I’m so sorry!”

The man sighed as he tucked the phone into his pocket; he spoke quickly, speaking phrases that Adrien couldn’t quite understand, “C’est tiguidou. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it kid, perhaps it’s for the best. I may have just inadvertently sent the most suave text… or just made a complete ass of myself.” He looked up at Adrien and cleared his throat – it did nothing to smooth out the rasp of his voice. He raised his hand up and pointed at Adrien, with a mock stern expression on his face, “Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Adrien nodded, a little confused, and he had to strain to try to decipher the man’s words, “Pardon?”

The man smiled, “Ah, sorry, sorry.” He paused before speaking again with more thought and at a slower pace, “Don’t worry about the phone, it’s fine. And I’m sorry for the inappropriate language.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Adrien replied, now understanding.

The man shrugged apologetically and looked at his watch, “Oh damn, so fu – uhhhhhh, freaking late! This is what I get for going out for breakfast this morning…”

He bent down to collect some more of his papers, Adrien bit back a smirk at the man’s almost slip up – it was rare for adults to be so casual around him, let alone swear. Even on photo shoot sets, adults generally ignored him or treated him not quite like a child, but not like an adult either. Most of the time it would leave Adrien feeling lonely and alienated. The odd way this man in front of him behaved, when Adrien was so obviously a student was refreshing. It was so unlike how Natalie, his driver, his tutors and teachers treated him.

After adjusting his bag back onto his shoulders, Adrien picked up some of the man’s discarded books. He carefully assembled a small pile containing few French grammar books; some undisclosed black leather bound notebooks; and a slim well-worn book of poems. The man nodded in appreciation, “Thanks! So no harm here, right? Well… except for me pushing you up the stairs and a few poorly placed words… Seriously, sorry about that, you ok?”

Adrien held back a chuckle as he handed the pile of books to the man, “Oh, it’s no problem, I’m fine… sir.” he added with some uncertainty.

The man finally managed to collect all his belongings – the last of which were a pair of sleek black sunglasses that he smoothly put on, before he stood up straight – _Woah_ , he really was tall. “That’s Professor Sir to you kid.” the man spoke sarcastically, his face breaking into a large bright white grin and voice slipping back into his odd accent, “Nah, but seriously no ‘sirs’ necessary here, like I said, we’re not in class just yet! Speaking of which, we better head inside!”

Adrien nodded, realizing he had almost forgotten all about the prospect of school in all the excitement. Having already met a potential teacher, Adrien was both nervous and thrilled to finally make it through the front doors of the school. His body froze before taking a step further up the stairs in a mixture of hesitation and anticipation.

The man had himself gone a few steps before glancing back down at Adrien, “Come on, kid, we better head on in.” he drawled slowly, “We are so late, but at least I’m not the only one late, eh?!”

Adrien nodded as the man continued up the steps ahead of him. After checking that his uniform was straight and not out of place, Adrien started forward up the steps. Just ahead of him the man reached the front doors.

The man looked over his shoulder at Adrien and said, “Well, welcome to Lycée François… You know where you’re going, right? Make sure you come visit me in the library, k? I’m Mr. – “

“ADRIEN!”

Adrien paused mid-step, and squeezed his eyes shut in grief.

To quote the man in front of him from earlier, one syllable echoed in his head: _fu – uuhhhhhhhhhh._

Before even turning around Adrien knew that the silver car had found him and that the shout calling out his name belonged to none other than Natalie. They had found him. Of course they knew to follow him to the school.

_So close._

The man paused, with his hands on the door, and stared down at Adrien with furrowed brows. “Something wrong?”

Adrien turned back to see exactly what he feared, both his driver and Natalie standing at the base of the school stairs. The sun glared off the reflective patina of the car behind them. He sighed in remorse. _Why did I think I could possibly get away with this?_ Adrien had never been so impulsive before and now that he had been caught he felt the guilt of his actions pass over him.

“Adrien, come now, your father will be furious if you’re late for your photo shoot” Natalie spoke sternly, clutching at her ever-present tablet.

The man stepped away from the doorway to stand beside Adrien, staring between Natalie and the boy beside him, “Kid?” he side-whispered to Adrien, “Do you know these people? Ummm… is there something I can do to help?”

Adrien shook his head, “No, it’s fine, thank you though. That’s just my father’s assistant… my father must need me for something…”

“Oh… ok?” The man responded, still looking confused and equally concerned, before he gave a small shrug, “Well, I suppose nothing really all that important happens on the first day, so don’t sweat it, you won’t be missing much… Just tell your dad to phone the school about your absence ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” Adrien affirmed, letting out a mixture of a sigh and a humorless laugh before lowly muttering, “I won’t be coming back.”

The man – who had not caught the last bit of Adrien’s response, put a supportive hand on Adrien’s shoulder, “You sure everything’s alright?”

“Yeah,” Adrien responded, trying his best to mask his disappointment and straighten himself to perfect posture. “Thanks again, sir”

The man smiled before raising his hand to give him a quick smack on Adrien’s back, “Hey, what’d I say! No need for formalities outside of school! Ok?”

Adrien nodded meekly with a sad smile. The man squeezed his shoulder in reply before dropping his hand.

“Well, I’ll see ya later than. Be sure to drop by the library once you’ve got the hang of things here, k?”

Adrien nodded again in reply, his head barely shifting before he quickly turned back to the man and said, “I’m sorry for making you more late!”

The man laughed, “Don’t sweat it kid, with my luck this is just the start to a long string of getting to school late. Ahhhh, just like the old days.” The man sighed before walking back to the entrance door lazily.

Inside Adrien deflated, outside he fixed his posture and made his way down the stairs towards Natalie. As he approached, he spoke softly, “I’m sorry, but this is what I wanted … he said I could go to school.”

Behind Natalie’s cold blue eyes, flashed what almost felt like empathy towards Adrien – if only for just a moment, before she answered, “Yes, I know, but circumstances have changed.”

“…I just want to be like everyone else… go to school, be normal. What’s wrong with that?” Adrien muttered glumly under his breath as he was guided back into the silver gleaming car.

Before entering the car, Adrien looked back to the front door where the man stood watching. He still hadn’t gone into the school – Adrien felt guilty for further delaying him. However the man, meeting Adrien’s eyes raised his hands up slowly to send Adrien a quick and informal two-finger salute, to which Adrien answered with a meek wave before getting into the silver vehicle.

On instinct he reached up and fastened his seatbelt, feeling like some sort of robot. His eyes focused on the blank screen on the head seat in front of him, until it blurred slightly. Once the car started up, Adrien looked towards the school to catch a last look – his last image of freedom, so close, as it slipped between his fingertips.

The man was still there at the front door watching.

The car moved forward, distancing Adrien further and further from the school’s threshold.

Adrien released a small sigh, “Please don’t tell my father…”

Natalie stared at him blankly, before reaching for her tablet, “As I was saying, your schedule for today…”

 _Is she really not going to say anything?_ Adrien balked internally. He stared at her, knowing she was still continuing on about his schedule, the photo shoot, his tutoring sessions, his fencing lessons, on and on, but he couldn’t hear any of it. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t care about the schedule or the shoot.

His lethargy continued throughout the rest of the day, only sprinkled with moments of hesitation and curiosity as to whether anyone was going to mention his act of rebellion. A part of his dreaded the idea, whereas another part of him screamed for someone to address it.

He posed, and the lights flashed. Hands placed him in different outfits and poked and pinned garments to give off the air of perfect tailoring. The heat from the set lighting burned and made him sweat on the layers of clothing he wore. Photographers yelled out commands, and Adrien complied.

In all, the shoot was fairly short and over relatively quickly, and Adrien felt a slight humiliation as he redressed himself in the school uniform that no longer served a purpose. He was taken home for a private history lesson with Natalie and lunch. Adrien sat, dejectedly at the head of the dining room table blankly staring down at the textbook in front of him on the table as Natalie continued her lecture.

“And so Adolphe Thiers was elected into office in 1871, following the reign of Emperor Napoloen III…” she drily articulated not even lifting her eyes from her tablet as she slowly crossed back and forth across the room.

“… Thus commencing the formation of the Third Republic.” Adrien held back a yawn.

“That’s correct, Adrien.” robotically replied Natalie, as she swiped a finger across the screen of her tablet.

Neither of them had realized the presence that had entered the room until a deep voice jarred them from their collective boredom.

Gabriel Agreste walked forward parallel to the dining room table, with his hands held stiffly behind his back, his cold blue eyes flashed behind the glare of his large black eyeglasses, “Give me a minute, would you Natalie.”

Adrien’s eyes widened in shock at the mere presence of his father and he reflexively straightened himself up in the chair. His father’s heavy dress shoes clicked against the tiled floor. Gabriel Agreste stood in front of him, who he rarely saw in person… Adrien panicked, had Natalie told his father about what had happened that morning?

Adrien shifted to stare questioningly up at Natalie, but bit back the urge to say anything.

Natalie showed no sign of any emotion, she quickly replied to Mr. Agreste, “Of course,” as she backed herself out of the room, leaving Adrien alone with his father in the large room.

The air felt cold as a long silence filled the space between the father and son. A mix of fear and contempt washed over Adrien, if his father had heard of his attempt to go to school today he would surely be furious, but Adrien too had been blindsided that morning by the change of plans. Just a few months ago his father had told him he could attend Lycée François, and just as he was about to taste freedom, the rug had been pulled right out from under him. As it were he sat paralyzed in his chair, unsure of what to say or do, he settled on blankly staring at the table, before finally shifting his eyes up to his father.

 _He knows_.

Gabriel was always seen as quite uptight and angry, in interviews he always answered curtly, with an exasperated tone, as if everything was a mere waste of his time. It was shocking to many that such a cold man could create such inspired and beautiful art in his designs. For Adrien, his father’s dour demeanour was only a stark reminder of the man his father had been when his mother had been around…

Finally, Gabriel broke the silence, the corners of his mouth curled down slightly, “I know I arranged for you to attend school, but it just simply won’t be possible with the upcoming spring line, scheduling will be a mess. It’s better for you to stay at home, in the house where everything can be controlled; out there it’s just too dangerous.”

“But father –“ Adrien wished to retaliate with something. The injustice of being told at the last minute of the change… The lack of friends and people his own age in his life… It spurred him to try to voice this to his father. But before he could speak further, he was cut off by his father, whose speech was slowly becoming more and more sharpened with anger.

“It’s better for you to stay where I can keep you safe and supervised.” said Gabriel.

Words left Adrien’s mouth before he had the tact to hold them back, “But school is supervised, there are teachers there!”

Gabriel scoffed before quickly replying, “Yes, they supervise a whole class of students, which divides their attention, whereas here you can be privately tutored. You have Natalie here to teach you, hand picked tutors to carry out your lessons; it’s much better than having you go to some school and be held back by incompetent students and teachers. Here your teachers are solely focused on you, not 15 other students. With your behaviour this morning it seems imperative that I make sure you are properly looked after, such rebellious behaviour proves that you cannot be left alone – especially not out there in such a dangerous world.”

Adrien sharply drew a breath, as this all but confirmed that Natalie had told his father. _Of course she had,_ thought Adrien. He couldn’t believe the words coming from his father’s mouth; did he not understand how lonely he was? To be locked up in the house with no friends? To be driven to and fro from one photo shoot to another? Again without thinking Adrien placed his hands on the table in front of him, and pushed to stand up from his chair, “It’s not dangerous out there father! I just want to be normal, go to school and make friends… why can’t I just be like everyone else?

 _“_ Cause you are not like everyone else, you are my son!” The words came out like venom, his father’s sneered, “The fame that our family name garners puts you at risk in the outside world Adrien, its better for things to continue as they were. It was foolish of me to be caught up on the whims and opinions of Mayor Bourgeois. It’s final; you will not go to school.” Gabriel turned to the doorway, “Natalie, you may continue.”

“Yes sir” came Natalie’s voice, startling Adrien. Gabriel on the other hand stood unfazed, as he turned sharply in his tailored suit and walked out of the room.

Adrien stared at his father’s retreating figure in shock; eventually he turned to Natalie with a glare, causing Natalie to hesitate before restarting her lecture.

For a moment Adrien could have sworn he saw some form of apology forming on Natalie’s face, it looked so foreign and out of place on her face, but before she could even open her mouth to speak, Adrien grabbed his bag and stormed out of the room.

Upon entering his room, Adrien slammed the door behind him before dropping his bag on top of his bed. He looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing the school uniform that he had been so happy to wear that morning, now it was just a reminder of what his father had said, “It’s final; you will not go to school.”

He removed the uniform, before opting to redress in his own clothes, all of which were hand selected from his father’s designs. He folded the uniform it gently and laid it down at the base of his wardrobe, sighing.

 _This house is a cage_ , Adrien thought as he continued to reflect on the conversation he had just had with his father. He was sick and tired of being treated like some glass doll for his father to dress up and parade in front of cameras, what had first started out as a hope to get closer to his distant father had turned into a suffocating duty.

He slowly walked dejectedly up to his bed before collapsing down on top of it. His foot caught the side of his deserted bag at the end of his bed and it tipped over, its contents spilling out across the bed. Adrien paid the action no mind, choosing instead to press his forehead into the softness of his pillow. He hoped that Natalie would leave him be for a few moments by himself before being whisked back into his scheduled commitments. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to let go of the idea of going to school.

 _This is what father wants_ , Adrien tried to ignore the emotional whiplash of playing to his father’s orders, but it was hard to not be flooded with the disappointment of having had something he actually wanted to do be taken away from him. He let out another frustrated sigh.

Lying on his bed, Adrien hadn’t noticed the sparkling glare of silver that flashed among the outpoured contents of his school bag across the bottom edge of his bed. For buried beneath the abandoned notebooks and various school supplies laid a mysterious silver object. It was masked under the pile of contents but its edge peeked out beneath the mess. The afternoon sun that shone through the large windows glinted off the object, before the bed shifted under Adrien’s weight and the ring was fully covered under the expanse of a notebook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: How are things going for Marinette? And perhaps this VolleyballAU will finally starts to have some actual volleyball in it?!?!
> 
> … also I don’t really know anything about France history... could you tell?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How’s Marinette adjusting to new friends, old faces, and a new school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Got my computer repaired and was up north visiting my sister! I'm an auntie again!

Marinette was determined not to let the presence of Chloé Bourgeois ruin another school year. This attitude was further reinforced by her newfound friendship with Alya Césaire, with her strong will, long wavy ombré russet hair, and never-ending pep talks worthy of any cliché underdog sport movie.

And so, on her second day, Marinette showed up to Lycée Dupont early, wearing her uniform that she had spent the previous night altering. The itchy skirt that had bothered her so much the day before was now lined with a silky smooth black viscose fabric. The added material stood as a barrier of relief for her skin against the harsh woollen plaid.

For added convenience, Marinette had also sewn deep pockets on either side of the skirt. She toyed with the idea of further lining her blazer to match the now-lined-skirt, but quickly realized she had ran out of both time and fabric to accomplish such a task. Plus the blazer was not made of the same material as the skirt; it was more of an aesthetics issue for Marinette. This led her to thinking about going to the fabric store after school the next day to stock up on some material.

In all Marinette was proud and satisfied with the changes she was able to accomplish to the uniform. It still looked identical to her classmates’ garb but in comparison to her discomfort yesterday, she was much more at ease without the constant itch of the skirt fabric on her skin.

To further add to the ensemble for her second day, Marinette opted to wear some thick thigh-high socks that she had knitted last winter. The first signs of autumn were making its appearance in the chilly morning air, and Marinette’s legs were grateful for the added warmth.

She had thought of what else she could add to her outfit – as a designer she couldn’t help it – however there were many restrictions to the school policy on what could and couldn’t be worn. Students had a choice between wearing a skirt or pants – Marinette refused to even try on the pants she was sent – they were pleated, _pleated_. Pleats on skirts and dresses were at times acceptable, they added volume and made for a nice structure and flow in some designs, but pleats on pants!? Marinette had to draw the line somewhere.

Of course, there were always certain exceptions to the rule and cases where pleats in pants were appropriate; Marinette had seen some haute couture harem pants featured in a spring runway show back when sportswear was making a comeback. At first Marinette couldn’t even get past the concept of harem pants, much less the pleats that adorned them… but even so, she could understand the designer’s concept, and could therefore appreciate it for what it was – it was different.

Still these school-pleated pants were not different, they had been done before. They were dad pants, something that a middle-aged man with no fashion sense would settle for off the clearance rack of a hardware store… they were pants that were a part of a power suit from the 1980’s that flattered no shape, adding volume to the hip region and making it look like the wearer was either wearing a diaper, or had a permanent wedgie. These pants would have to be a project for another time.

Supplied white oxford shirts were mandatory, but accessories that were provided such as the red plaid tie and bow were optional. Blazers, vests, cardigans, and jackets were also available and optional to wear. Shoes were to be black and not heeled; it was strongly recommended to go with simple black flats, which Marinette was happy to comply with. Other than that students could add any items to their uniforms such as scarves, socks, tights, jewellery, and hair accessories, as long as they were solid in colour; had a ‘subtle’ pattern; and/or were not ‘inappropriate’.

The socks, while warm and cute, didn’t add too much to the outfit, they were just a basic black. She toyed with the idea of adding some sparkle with jewellery but Marinette didn’t have much in terms of necklaces or earrings, and what she did own didn’t quite go with the outfit.

Hair accessories, on the other hand, were a no go. She played with the idea of adding some red ribbons to her pigtails, but the process only messed up her hairdo and she didn't want to be late for school. _No,_ she thought _, today I’m going to be early_. She settled with knowing that at least she was allowed to have some pink in her outfit with her backpack and declared herself ready for the new day.

Her walk to school was much more self-assured and confident; she knew where she was going and she was prepared for what awaited her. She had a plan.

 

* * *

  

Her plan had not included being yelled at by Chloé Bourgeois… no no. Her plan entailed getting to the seat before Chloé could claim it again (maybe Chloé would take Alya’s words from the day before to heart?)... beyond that she hadn't quite figured out what exactly to do or say, and now she sat with her arms crossed staring straight into Chloé’s angry sneer.

“What are you doing?” Chloé basically shouted at her, her voice laced with venom, “You’re in the wrong seat!”

 _She’s not even trying to wear the uniform_ , Marinette thought as she observed Chloé’s outfit. The only thing that was remotely close to the dress code was the white top she wore, but even then it had horizontal black stripes across her stomach. Over top of the shirt she had on a yellow jacket, the fabric of which had some sort of weird sheen. Her pants were definitely not pleated. _But white pants in the fall?_ Marinette pondered the thought and decided it just wasn’t a look that she, herself, could pull off. Chloé though, seemed to have a personality that would buckle to no fashion rule. However, in a school with a uniform policy, she was definitely pushing her luck – or at least the reach of her father’s influence. In a room full of students abiding by the dress code she stuck out like a sore thumb, even Sabrina knew better and was wearing the appropriate attire.

Without giving it a second thought, Marinette stood up from her seat to match Chloé’s vehement glare, she laid out her hands on the desk in front of her, claiming her territory. She was done. After years of putting up with Chloé’s complaints, people bowing down to her every whim and fancy just because she used her father’s position to squash over everyone, Marinette had had enough.

"I'm not going to let you walk all over me, Chloé. I won't let you push me over, I'm gonna fight to win." Marinette spoke, paraphrasing Alya from the day before, "And from now on... when I fight, I intend to fight to win!"

"Uhhhhh..." Chloé stared at her, her mouth slightly open in a mixture of shock and confusion. The blonde turned towards her companion, Sabrina, at her side, and muttered, "What is that suppose to mean?"

Breathing heavily, Marinette looked around the room, she noticed Alya had entered the classroom, her phone held in her hand at her side, as Marinette made her speech. Upon making eye contact, Alya offered her a big smile and a thumbs-up, before she made her way towards their desk, claiming the seat next to Marinette.

Encouraged, Marinette continued, deciding to let Chloé know exactly what she meant, "It means that I'm not putting up with all your immaturity anymore, Chloé! And neither should anyone else! Alya's right, we're in lycée, not école primaire, it's time to start acting like it!" And to further display her point, Marinette sat back down in her seat with a huff.

From behind her, Marinette heard someone give out a shout of agreement, "Woohoo!" And she turned to see a girl with pink hair nodding towards her. This was quickly joined by some laughter from around the class.

Chloé’s face scrunched up in anger, her face reddened as she formed a fist with her hand before she finally let out a grunt of fury and made her way to an empty seat, followed closely behind by Sabrina.

Beside her, Alya nudged her gently with her elbow, before voicing, "Good job!"

By the time Chloé and Sabrina had settled into their new seats, their teacher had briskly strolled into the classroom, ready to begin the lesson. As the class began, Alya leant over towards Marinette, casually covering her mouth to whisper, “That was so awesome!”

Marinette beamed at the comment, glad to know that she had a friend’s support and proud of herself for not letting herself get walked over again.

Once the class had been dismissed, Marinette quickly came under the receiving end of a not so gentle slap on the back. The girl with the pink hair, who sat near the back of the class, grinned in greeting towards Marinette and Alya. Marinette remembered her name being Alix from the morning role-call. Her hair was spiked messily, one side of which was pulled into a single pigtail, while the other side of her hair was dishevelled beyond belief, naturally swooping out and upwards, defying gravity, and her short bangs were accented on one side with a rebellious cowlick. The bedhead hairdo seemed to match the determined smirk on her face.

“Seriously, what is up with blondie?” Alix had asked, crossing her arms and glaring down at Chloé, as she left the classroom with a haughty hair flick. The whole action caused the short pink haired girl to grimace further added a disgusted, “Ugh.”

Another classmate, with amazing multi-coloured dreads, held back from her face with a pink bandana stepped up towards Marinette and Alya’s desk, joining in on the conversation.

“Well, you saw how she was yesterday, Alix,” the girl said, “She seems to have quite the chip on her shoulder.” She shook her head at the memory, before glancing over to Marinette and Alya and smiling sweetly. Tugging nervously on a short beaded dread by her ear, the girl introduced herself as Mylène, and quickly voiced her admiration of Marinette's bravery.

Marinette smiled in thanks, introducing herself and Alya to their classmates, before Alix quickly steamrolled back into the conversation. “Yeah, well that girl needs to be brought down a few pegs if you ask me! I mean, does she not realize that uniforms are mandatory!?! The teacher didn’t even say anything!”

Before Marinette could voice her agreement in this compliant, a bright voice peeped up from behind them, “Oh, well Chloé’s the mayor’s daughter!”

A quiet rasp soon followed, “She gets away with everything.”

Marinette perked up, recognizing the two voices. They belonged to some of her classmates from collége – who also had experience in dealing with Chloé. Rose stood with her short pixie cut blonde locks contrasting against Juleka’s long dark hair with purple streaks. They both introduced themselves to Alya, Alix, and Mylène.

Marinette and Rose briefly discussed their respective hairstyle changes while Juleka, Alya, and Alix roasted Chloé and all her antics.

Marinette and Rose rejoined the group conversation just as Mylène voiced with timid awe “I knew I recognized her from somewhere. I can’t believe she’s our classmate.”

“Pfffffffffffffft,” scoffed Alix, “I don't care whose daughter she is! I mean come on!!! If I have to wear these lame pants then so should she!”

“Oh!” Rose smiled before looking down with sympathy at Alix’s pleated khakis, “Well, you could always wear the skirt if you don't like the pants so much! It’s so cute!” Rose demonstrated her point with the quick turn to showcase her uniform skirt.

“Oh no,” Alix replied, shaking her head in disbelief, “I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a skirt!” Causing all the girls to laugh.

Between their shared giggles, Juleka quietly added, “Yeah… plus the skirt is kinda itchy. I wore tights today, but it didn’t really make a difference…” She gestured to her outfit with hands that wore black fingerless gloves as she let out a somewhat defeated sigh. Her black tights had a subtle translucent lace detail throughout and were patterned with the odd tear here and there, giving her a gothic-punk vibe that matched well with her long dark hair and purple streaks.

Alix nodded enthusiastically, “Exactly! Plus, at least the pants have pockets! I don’t really care if I look like some grandpa or whatever, I just want to be comfy!”

Alya frowned looking down and her skirt, “Yeah, pockets are a nice advantage… but even then those pockets are small! I can’t fit my phone in them! Guy clothes always have the biggest, most functional pockets! Why can’t girl’s clothes be the same!?! It’s just like in volleyball, guys where the baggiest, comfiest looking shorts ever, and we have to wear booty shorts! What is that about?”

Marinette shuffled slightly, before nervously voicing, “Well, I added pockets to my skirt last night… and I actually lined it with a softer fabric to make it more comfortable!” She stuffed her hands down into her skirt pockets taking out her phone from one side.

The reaction from the group was immediate.

Alix pursed her lips in a look that said, “I’m impressed,” while Mylène chirped a pleasantly surprised, “Oh!”

“Woah! Girl, that's so awesome!” Alya had remarked, “How’d you even do that?!”

“Oh Marinette’s always been talented. She’s a designer!” Rose answered, lightly clapping her hands.

Marinette blushed at the compliment. Alya smiled. She grabbed Marinette’s shoulder and said, “That’s so awesome! I didn’t know you were into fashion!”

Returning her phone to her pocket, Marinette humbly shrugged, “Yeah… it’s kinda my thing.”

“Yeah, well you definitely need to teach me how to fix this train wreck of a uniform!” Alya responded, “Seriously, I need those pockets, girl!”

Marinette smiled widely nodding her head.

By the end of her morning break, Marinette had amassed a list of commissions and had even planned a weekend get to together sewing session to show her friends how to go about adding pockets to their skirts. Even Alix had perked up at the possibility of getting rid of the pleats from her pants.

And so the six classmates, Marinette, Alya, Alix, Mylène, Rose, and Juleka, naturally gathered again over their lunch break. Alya, who apparently was struck with an idea during their discussion over the break, was keen to explain her volleyball blog to the group. This led them to all deciding to venture to the school library computer lab to get a proper introduction to the _Volleyblog_.

On their walk to the library, Alya quickly shared her idea for her next post – one that she was keen on getting Marinette’s opinions on: _The Gender Politics of Sportswear_. Eventually, once they had settled themselves in the lab and had been given the grand tour of the site, the conversation was directed onto another subject, as per Alya’s persistent coaxing.

“So, who’s trying out for the volleyball team?”

“Have you seen my blog?”

“How excited are you for the Olympics!?!”

“No… seriously, whose trying out tomorrow for the team?”

The pestering was relentless, but it quickly became apparent that all six of the girls were interested in trying out… though in varying shades of enthusiasm.

“Oh, you better believe I’m trying out tomorrow,” assured Alix with a self-assured tilt of her head. Marinette could tell by her spitfire attitude that Alix was most likely a very competitive person. And judging by her selection of black tennis shoes and the dreaded pleated pants as part of her uniform for today – a look that Marinette had to admit worked for her pink-haired classmate – she was likely a very athletic.

“I think I just might give it a try!” supplied Mylène, with a faint blush on her cheeks, “My – uh, well a friend of mine from collége always used to tell me I should play volleyball…”

“I think we could have a really great team this year!” sang Rose with her eternal optimism, “Just think, with the school gym, we could practice everyday!”

“As long as Chloé doesn’t ruin it for us,” Juleka added in a low raspy voice, one that could barely be heard under the continued conversation. Standing somewhat awkwardly to the side of the group beside Rose, her hands struggled slightly as a bracelet she wore seemed to catch on her skirt. Rose immediately came to her assistance and freed her from her entanglement with ease and a smile.

This action went unnoticed by Marinette. At the mere mention of Chloé in the context of the school’s volleyball team, Marinette was immediately reminded of daunting memories of their collége team. During those years, Marinette had endured ridicule from Chloé and had constantly been benched by their coach. It had not been a good time. But now, as the girls sat in the library during the end of their lunchtime looking at Alya’s _Volleyblog,_ she was getting more and more excited in the idea of being on a team… well, that was, if she made it.

“Ugh, can we not talk about blondie, please?” said Alix with a scowl.

“Yeah, yeah… besides,” Alya responded, wiping out her phone and tilting it so the girls could see her screen, “I still haven’t shown you how the _Volleyblog_ looks like on your phone!”

Even with the change in subject, Marinette couldn’t help but continue thinking, _What if I try out and don’t even make it?_ The thought suddenly plagued her mind, causing her to grip the edge of the computer chair she sat on, as the rest of the girls cooed over the mobile layout of Alya’s blog. _I’ll just end up embarrassing myself in front of everyone._

These thoughts, however, were eventually drowned out by the group’s conversation. Alya continued to gush over her blog, adding that it had once been retweeted by a volleyball player on the national team. And then the girl’s began to discuss various serving techniques and preferred positioning. Marinette pushed past her nervousness and instead tried her best to join in with her new friends in the discussion.

Eventually, realizing the end of their break was coming to an end, the group started to collect themselves to head back to their classroom. Marinette, still slightly ruminating over the volleyball tryouts, nervously reached for her bag as the other girls were already standing, waiting patiently for her. As she finally caught up after tucking her wheeled-chair back towards the table, her foot caught the edge of a stray chair, sending her careening to the ground in a flailing mess.

“Oh! Hey, are you alright?” Alya asked with concern, as the group all stopped in their tracks to make sure Marinette was okay.

“Yup!” Marinette replied, giving a weak thumbs-up, before using both hands against the floor to haul herself off the ground. Her right hand suddenly brushed against something wedged within the carpet, slightly scratching her like a kitten’s claw, causing her to flinch back in surprise – which led to her loosing her balancing and toppling back over.

“Oof!” she breathed out, as on her second impact with the ground caused for the air in her lungs to stutter out a gasp.

“Girl, with all the falling and diving, I would think you were a natural born libero or something!” Alya remarked as Rose’s white tights, following by Mylène’s black leggings came into Marinette’s line of sight and the two girls quickly offered their hands to help haul a very embarrassed Marinette from the library floor.

“Ha!” Marinette self-deprecatingly laughed at herself as she righted herself, running her hands over her uniform and reaching down for her backpack on the ground, “No… I’m just clumsy is all.”

Rose, still at Marinette’s side, knowingly patted her shoulder, having been privy to Marinette’s grace, or lack there of, for some years now. Juleka, with her arms crossed gave a sympathetic nod.

“You’re sure you’re alright though?” Mylène asked.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m okay,” replied Marinette, shifting on her toes and rubbing her elbow in embarrassment.

“Yeah, but what happened?! You fell, and then you tried to get back up and fell again!” Alix asked, somewhat confused, before giving a small chuckle and continuing, “It was kinda like watching Bambi walk for the first time!”

“I just tripped over one of these chairs…” Marinette pursed her lips as she thought back to her fall. She looked down at the carpet below her feet, scanning for something. As her eyes locked onto the object that had scraped against her hand, she further divulged, “And then when I went to get up…”

Marinette bent at the waist to reach for the metal pin on the floor, her hand wrapping around a silver-lined circular piece of jewelry. The round onyx stone set in it caught the florescent light of the library, causing it to shine in muted tones of pink and red before it seemed to purely absorb its own reflection and fade into black once more.

Twirling, the pin between her fingers and standing back up straight, Marinette presented the object to the group and stated, “I pricked my hand on this… and that’s when I wiped out again.” She gave out a small chuckle again allowing herself to laugh at her own gawky behaviour, shaking her head.

“Oh, Marinette,” Rose giggled at her side, before she leaned over and inspected the pin herself, “Wow, what an interesting stone!”

“Cool colour,” muttered Juleka.

“Mmmmhmmm,” agreed Alya, “It looks like an earring.”

“Someone must have lost it!” commented Mylène

Alix joined in, stating “Yeah, well, I’m sure there’s probably a lost and found here.”

“Oh! Good thinking!” Rose added.

“Yeah,” Alix continued, “So let’s just drop it off with the librarian and get outta here.” She finished off her statement with a swift nod to the exit, pointing towards the librarian’s desk with her thumb.

“Okay.” Marinette returned as the group of girls walked towards the library’s entrance. As they neared the front desk, Marinette noted the time. Lunch would be over soon. Alix’s sudden impatience was quickly explained. Not wanting to delay the whole group any further, Marinette turned to her classmates and said, “You guys go ahead, lunch is almost over, and I wouldn’t want us all to be late!”

Alya glanced down at her phone, checking the time, before replying, “Nah, don’t worry we got time!”

Mylène and Rose nodded along. Alix seemed to be a rolling ball of energy ready to burst, while Jukela stood off to the side looking at a book display on classic science fiction.

“No, no, really guys, go ahead, I’ll just quickly drop this off and catch up to you guys!” Marinette insisted, waving her hands out in front of her.

“Yeah, I gotta grab some stuff from my locker before class, so I should probably head on out of here,” Alix added.

Checking her phone again, Alya turned to Marinette and said, “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead! Before we waste more time and all end up super late!” laughed Marienette, “Seriously, I’ll catch up to you!”

“Ha! You can try,” Alix smirked, “but I think with a head start you’ll just end up in our dust!”

Marinette chuckled at this, “Maybe you’re right…”

“Alright, alright. It’s not a race! And the more we keep talking the later we’ll be!” Alya responded, as the group made it to the library’s threshold. She turned to Marinette with a little wave and added “See you in a bit!”

The other girls joined in in imparting their quick farewells with Alix’s own jaunty two-finger salute, before they exited out the library’s large twin wooden doors, leaving Marinette. Smiling at the warmth of her friends’ departures, Marinette looked towards the front desk.

No one was there.

With the absence of her friends, the environment of the library suddenly felt very still and quiet. It suddenly dawned on Marinette on how loud they were and she was suddenly shocked that some stuffy librarian had not reprimanded them. At her old collége, the library was a vacuum, a void in which any noise was immediately “shhhed” by one of the ever-present supervisors.

Here though, the sudden silence felt peaceful and right, not forced. Like the books within the room deserved a moment of reverence, a break from the chatter, but even then they would be absolutely at home surrounded by the boisterous melody of conversation. Marinette glanced around the large room, stretching her neck to look around bookshelves in search for someone in charge. She couldn’t find a single soul within the walls.

Puzzled, Marinette stepped closer towards to the L-shaped front counter, its dark mahogany surface was clear but for a sleek computer on one side and a lavender planter pot that housed an array of yellow flowers that ranged from brilliant gold to pale lemon shades. The potted flower arrangement seemed to create its own rays of sunlight upon the dark desk.

Hesitant to break the reverie of the hidden worlds within each page of each book in the library, Marinette, softly stepped closer towards the desk. On her approach, she was able to spot the top of someone’s head peeking out from behind the counter.

Quickly it dawned on her that someone was seated at desk behind the counter that ran perpendicular to the front facing ledge at the library’s entrance. The desk was lower set then the counter and allowed the person seated there a full view of the library study tables – but not quite the computer lab where Marinette and her classmates had situated themselves over their lunch break.

The woman at the desk – who must have been the librarian, was poring over multiple books, seemingly distracted from Marinette’s presence. From her view, all Marinette could make out was the woman’s shoulder length dark hair and maroon blazer.

Marinette placed a light hand on the counter, and gently leaned over before letting out a tentative, “Hello…?”

And just like that the room filled with noise again. Jostling Marinette back to standing straight.

A small squeak of “Oh!” burst out as the small woman at the desk jumped slightly in surprise in her seat. The lady spun her chair to look up at Marinette with a hand on her chest, letting out a large breath. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting sweetie, I thought you girls had all left!” she spoke out, as she stood up from her chair and adjusted her hair, “I just got so caught up in this book – I guess it’s an occupational hazard!”

The woman was slightly taller Marinette and also of Asian descent. Her dark hair was parted to the side held slightly back from her face with a thin red ribbon that seemed to be tied off in a knot behind her. The extra length of ribbon curled and intermingled with her hair like delicate tangled vines. Unlike Marinette, whose face was dotted with freckles, this woman’s face was adorned with twin beauty marks on each cheek – with one slightly higher than the other.

However most striking of her features were her large eyes. While Marinette was used to people commenting on her blue eyes, the lady in front of her sported darker blue eyes that bordered on the side of a deep indigo, almost violet colour.

“Oh, no! That’s fine!” Marinette replied instinctively.

Marinette eyes quickly took in the woman’s outfit. She seemed too young to be working at a school, but her attire was so well put together and professional that it gave her an air of maturity that bordered on the lines of fashion and function. Plus it was definitely not the school-approved student uniform – so unless she was pulling a Chloé Bourgeois, this woman must have been a teacher or faculty member of some kind.

She was wearing a well-structured deep red blazer with black zipper details on its slightly asymmetrical lapels. Underneath her blazer, she wore a nude-blush coloured blouse, buttoned up all the way to its oversized collar. Her shirt was tucked into a charcoal pencil skirt to complete what Marinette could see.

With a blink of her truly unique eyes, the woman continued, “How can I help you?” She beamed a small, sweet smile at Marinette that she couldn’t help but naturally return.

“Well, I found this over by the computers,” Marinette answered, holding up the small piece jewelry that she had so non-gracefully stumbled upon.

Immediately, the woman’s azure eyes flashed with recognition. Her hand reached up to her collar. “Oh! That’s my pin! That’s so funny, they've never fallen off before, I didn’t even notice! Thank you!”

Marinette eyes followed the women’s hand as it alighted upon her collar. She quickly realized on the center of the right leaf of her shirt collar, the woman had pinned an exact copy of the pin Marinette held in her hand, while the left side was bare.

“It’s no problem! I’m glad it managed to make its way back to you!” Marinette spoke, offering the jewelry back to its owner.

“Lucky you were able to find it for me, you mean!” The woman’s hand paused on her collar as she plucked out a metallic-silver backing from behind the folds of her collar, “Ah! And there’s the backing!”

“Oh! Wow, now that’s lucky!” Marinette blinked in awe, _How on earth did that stay on her shirt_ , she thought.

The woman laughed lightly, as she took the piece of jewelry from Marinette’s hand and pinned it back into place on her collar, “Thank you again!!”

“Really, it was no problem!” Marinette replied, nodding her head. After another shared smile and slight pause, she added, “It's a beautiful pin!”

“Thank you,” the woman said, “they’re technically earrings…” She laughed before lowering her voice to a mock whisper, “but I’ve always been too afraid to pierce my ears. I’m a bit of a chicken… I’ve just been wearing them as pins for forever!”

Marinette covered her mouth to hide her giggling, totally empathizing with the woman’s statement, “I know what you mean. I got my ears pierced when I was a baby… so I’m happy I can’t remember what it was like, I don't think I could pierce anything now!”

The woman laughed in response, “I’m glad I’ve got you on my side then. These earrings were a gift from some close family friends and it ruffled their feathers when they realized I didn't have my ears pierced! They tried to get me to pierce them for the longest time. But I managed to convince them I could still wear them! They’ve been my lucky charm for a long time now.” She smiled as her hands straightened out her collar.

“Well, it must be nice to have a lucky charm! I have a bracelet that I save for special occasions… but it doesn’t seem to work must of the time…” Marinette admitted.

The lady’s smile lessened for a moment, as she took in Marinette’s words and seemed to take her time to ponder them. “Hmmmmmm,” she thought aloud, “Let me read you something.”

As she spoke, she took a step back to her desk and selected from one of the many books piled a top each other. She returned to face Marinette with a small, well-worn paperback that was decorated with a multitude of colourful flags to mark various pages.

After briefing flipping through the pages, she found what she was looking for and turned the book towards Marinette. Puzzled, Marinette looked down at the dog-eared page, it must have been a book of poems or quotes, since the page was printed with nothing more than a few sentences. The title read, “Luck is not chance – “

While the print on both pages were quite minimal – nothing more than a few sentences – the pages themselves were awash in notes and highlighted passages. Marinette stared back up at the woman in front of her.

The lady pursed her lips and seriously cautioned, “Now, you should know this is my own copy, not the library’s. Never, and I mean never, fold a page of a library book… or highlight one… or write notes in it. This is not a proper reflection on proper book etiquette… but this is my own personal copy, okay?”

Marinette nodded in response, not really quite sure of what to say.

The woman smiled brightly before she started to read from the book, although judging from how naturally and smoothly she read – especially with the text upside down – Marinette assumed she could have recited the poem from memory.

The lady’s cheery voice recited:

Luck is not chance –  
It’s Toil –  
Fortune’s expensive smile  
Is earned –

She paused and looked up at Marinette expectantly, as if she was sure Marinette would have some sort of reaction to the poem. Marinette, however, was still trying to process the passage.

Finally, the woman said, “Well, I may have my pins as good luck charms, but that’s the secret, dear, you can’t put too much stock in things that may or may not give you luck… It’s not something that you can always rely on. See I almost lost one of my pins today, if it wasn’t for you! The poem is saying, we have to work hard no matter what; some things in life do not come to us easily. And we can’t lay blame on having lucky charms or not. With my pins, it’s more about finding a confidence boost, or having something that’s familiar to you, that helps you take charge and do your best! But simply wearing them doesn’t mean everything comes to me easily.”

Marinette was floored by her explanation, not sure what to think or say. However before she could respond, the shrill bell signaling the end of lunch rioted through the air, causing both Marinette and the woman to jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, honey!” The woman apologized, “I’ve just been standing here talking away without even thinking of the time!”

“That’s okay… I have a habit for being late.” Marinette assured, stepping back from the counter.

“Aw, well thank you again sweetie for bringing my pin back to me!” The lady declared as she reached for a pen and scrap piece of paper and began to scribble with haste. She folded the paper and handed it to Marinette, further elaborating, “And don’t worry about getting in trouble, just show this note to your teacher. It should be fine! Now go, go!”

“Okay, okay! Thank you!” Marinette hurriedly responded as she dashed out the front doors of the library.

After adjusting her backpack, Marinette curiously looked down at the note in her hand. As she made her way through the halls towards her next class, reflecting on her encounter with the school’s spirited librarian. The poem, while short was something Marinette was still wrapping her head around. In context of what the woman had said, Marinette was making some progress in digesting the words.

Curious, Marinette looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, she unfolded the note to see what it said. In loopy handwriting, it read, “Student late due to assisting me in the library. Sorry for the inconvenience! –Ms. Ki”

 

* * *

 

Once she had resettled herself into her class – her teacher had made no fuss about her lateness upon reading the librarian’s note, although Chloé had some snide comments to add to the discussion and Alya was interested to know what had delayed her for so long in the library – Marinette was properly zoned out sitting through another lecture. It was still so early in the school year to be truly challenging or interesting and was more of a summary of the previous classes from last year, some insurance for the teacher to ensure all the students were more or less on the same page. And the lights of the classroom were turned off in order to give focus to the projected slideshow. Marinette sat juggling her time between doodling aimlessly around her haphazardly written notes, trying to stay awake, and staring out on of the back windows that hadn’t had its blinds completely closed.

It was a nice late summer day, and what few clouds that were in the sky were more like wispy brushstrokes of paint on a canvas, flecked with pleasant accents of pink. Sunbeams gleamed through the glass windows making the dust in the room flicker like fireflies in the night. The room was cast in a warm yellow light and the whole atmosphere had Marinette thinking of an experiment she had done in a science class years before in école primaire.

The teacher had brought out a shoebox and placed it at the back of the classroom to stand up lengthways. He had opened the box to reveal that it had been designed into a maze-like structure and was painted completely black, with a cutout hole at one of the top corners. A barely sprouted plant in a cup was placed at the bottom of the box. The teacher had asked what the students thought would happen to the plant. A lot of the children assumed the plant would die or stop growing from lack of sunlight. However, over the next few days the class had watched at the plant continued to naturally grow, weaving and turning around obstacles, towards its only source of light.

Sitting there in the classroom, Marinette stretched out her arms and pretended for a moment that she was a plant growing its way towards the light. It made her think of how she heard that sunflowers always turned and shifted slightly throughout the day to face the sun.

Her doodles eventually deviated towards flowery swirls. She drew blooming roses, luscious lilies, delicate lotus flowers, and continued on and on…

Eventually, Marinette felt compelled to grab her sketchbook from her bag and settled in, willing herself to harness her sudden inspiration and yield something tangible and runway worthy from it.

Across the pages Marinette drew her designs. She fashioned skirts that blossomed like lily petals, maxi dresses that hung to the floor like cascading vines, hats that bloomed into flowers… and on and on.

Looking at the glowing sunlight pouring forth through the window, Marinette was reminded of the flowers in the library that seemed to effervesce its own golden light. She turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook and began to map out new designs.

Eventually Marinette hit a roadblock in her sketching, caught between various designs that were just missing something… before her lightly lined out on the page was a ruffled off-the-shoulder shirt, tucked into a long flowing skirt and topped off with a large brimmed sunhat with a delicate flower crown.

 _Too summery_ , she thought, as she looked back out the window and thought about the upcoming season. Already, this morning the air had been crisp and soon the leaves would be falling like snowflakes upon the ground.

 _Layers, jackets, coats, scarves_ , Marinette mused, turning to another page and drawing away. She again thought of the flowers that she had seen in the library, its colour bright against the muted tones in the library. A splash of colour, against layers and layers, soon became Marinette’s focus.

She sketched out a midi-skirt… _Maybe with some lace?_ She drew out a pair of trousers… _Slim fit and slightly cropped, deep green_ , she wrote along the pages border. She mapped out the layering of a complex scarf, a mixture of knit and lace… _Bright yellow, like flowers,_ Marinette noted.

Eventually, her mind ran out of ideas, and Marinette tried vividly to remember the look of the yellow flowers in the library. Turning her attention back to the lecture, Marinette decided she would have to get another look at the bouquet to strike some more inspiration.

Until then… well she had to get herself ready for the tryouts tomorrow.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Time: Lycée Dupont is preparing to hold it’s first round of volleyball tryouts, but what about Lycée Francois? Do they even have a volleyball team?
> 
> UPDATE!! 
> 
> You may have noticed I haven't updated in ages! Please know, I'm still planning on continuing this story! Life just got in my way, but I'm still slowly working on this!
> 
> UPDATE NUMERO 2!!!
> 
> I'm doing it!!! I'm writing CH 5 after a very long hiatus, my apologies, follow me on tumblr powerdragonmoon.tumblr.com for a preview!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How’s Adrien doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you guys doing??? Sorry for the long hiatus!! >__< But we're back into the volleyball world!! Hope you enjoy!

Adrien lay awake in his bed, idly staring at the ceiling. Technically it was the bottom of the mezzanine floor of his room that housed his library – but it didn’t really matter – he was just blankly looking up into the space above him. His eyes went unfocused and his vision blurred. It was well before his alarm was timed to go off and Adrien was unable to doze back to sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, his schedule would flash into his mind, like a phantom hologram haunting his every thought.

He blinked and he saw the flash of Nathalie’s tablet, the meticulously colour-coded calendar, organized rows and columns shaped and molded into various timeslots.

This morning he had a meeting with his personal trainer to go over his fitness routine and meal plan, followed by a quick workout. Then he was going to the Agreste headquarters for various fittings. With the stress of impending deadlines for the new spring lines and the constant stress of the designers that Adrien was going to suddenly grow 5 inches overnight, he was always being brought in to update his measurements. Afterwards, he would return to the mansion for lunch, followed by a tutoring session with Nathalie, fencing practice, and a private Chinese lesson. After dinner he had another photo shoot that was a continuation of the same spread from the day before.

Adrien opened his eyes and stared back up at the floor above him. There was no point to stay lying in bed, so he got up.

He prepared himself for his day, figuring he could head down early to breakfast. Dressed in his gym gear, he paused on his way out to make his bed. He had fallen asleep with his school bag spilled across one side. So he placed his gym bag on the floor and straightened out his sheets. Without giving it too much thought he scooped up the random school supplies back into the discarded schoolbag. He just needed to get them out of the way… he had no need of them for now.

He didn’t notice the clinking of something metal against his tablet as the alarm on his phone went off, startling him. He jumped in surprise, dropping his tablet onto the bed.

He had forgotten to turn off his set alarm when he had woken up early.

Running over to his desk, Adrien quickly switched off his phone, shoving it into his pocket, before returning back to cleaning his bed. In all the commotion, Adrien had not noticed the second chime of metal as something rolled along his bedroom floor, coming to rest under his desk. After returning all the books, pens, and random school supplies back into his book bag, he was left standing there, unsure of what to do.

 _I won’t be needing this,_ he thought looking at his schoolbag. He placed it on the floor by his desk. Turning around he grabbed his gym bag and made his way out of his room –

And almost ran straight into Nathalie.

Flustered, Adrien jumped back into his room, the door swinging back and slamming into the wall beside him. Nathalie, barely reacted, her eyes slightly widened and she pursed her lips before slipping back behind a blank façade. As usual, in her hands she held her tablet.

Clutching the shoulder strap of his gym bag across his chest, Adrien took a deep breath, slowing his startled pulse before apologizing, “Sorry Nathalie! I – I –”

Nathalie cut him off, “It’s fine Adrien, I was just checking to see if you were awake. You’re father would like a word.”

Adrien felt his stomach twist into knots. He swallowed a gulp of air before replying, “Of course. Is he in his office?”

“He left for Milan last night.” Nathalie answered promptly, “I have him here on video call.” She turned the tablet in her hand to face Adrien.

Gabriel Agreste’s stern face looked out at his son from behind the tablet’s screen. Adrien quickly straightened himself up, adjusting his posture as he met his father’s gaze. _Of course he’s not here,_ Adrien thought as he tried his best not to fidget on the spot.

“Good morning, father,” Adrien greeted. His voice was restrained and pleasant, even though he was still bitter and disappointed about what had occurred the day before. But more than that, Adrien was curious about what his father had to say to him. While he was hopeful for some sort of amicable conversation, his mind quickly started to worry about another sudden change to his schedule – another photo shoot? an ad campaign?

“Adrien,” his father returned, with a curt nod of his head. “I know we spoke already about your behaviour yesterday, but it’s important that you understand this.” His harsh tone became impossibly colder as he continued, “Not only did you put yourself in danger by running away from your bodyguard and Nathalie, but you disobeyed my orders.”

Adrien felt his shoulders sag as he stared down at his sneakers, unable to meet his father’s steely blue eyes. Guilt and regret ran through his blood. All he wanted was to be normal, to go to school and make friends.

“You are never – and I say never – going back to that school again,” Mr. Agreste continued with a furrowed brow somewhat obscured by his eyeglasses.

“But father – “Adrien tried desperately to say something, anything, but his father paid him no mind and barreled over his plea.

“ – Without your bodyguard. He will drop you off and pick you up everyday.” Gabriel explained, “Natalie has offered to organize your new schedule. You are expected to keep up with your music, Chinese, and fencing lessons, as well as your photo shoots.”

Adrien stared dumbfounded at the screen. Even his father’s angry tone and demeanor, Adrien could only focus on one thing. _I’m going to school!_

He glanced up at Natalie and caught a small but fleeting smile on her face before she quickly defaulted back to her usual blank expression. Adrien beamed up at her. _What had changed since yesterday? Had Natalie said something to his father?_

“Thank you Natalie!” Adrien praised and Natalie nodded gently in return. “Thank you father!”

Adrien turned to stare back at his father, hoping to get some sort of reaction from him. Any sign of the man he had once been. Instead all he got was another curt tilt of his head before Gabriel said, “That’s all,” just before ending the call. The screen turned blank.

Within the blank black screen, Adrien caught his reflection. A look of utter happiness was still present in his smile as it beamed back at him, before he watched as it crumbled into a disappointed frown. For as happy as he was to be re-given the permission to go to school, he still craved for more of a meaningful interaction with his father.

“Adrien?”

Adrien looked up to see a flash of concern on Natalie’s face. He quickly smiled, reminding himself that it was Natalie who was taking on the task of rearranging his schedule. And for that, he was more than grateful.

“Yes, Natalie?” He answered.

Natalie flicked her eyes to the watch on her wrist, “Your classes will start in about an hour’s time. With all the excitement, I think it’s best to cancel your workout and meeting this morning. I believe you have gym class scheduled for today, so perhaps it would be best for you to change now into your uniform. Just remember to pack up your sportswear to bring to school.” Natalie glanced down at her watch for a moment, “And then you should have plenty of time for breakfast before you are escorted to the school. I will see you in the dining room shortly.”

Adrien eagerly nodded in return, stepping back into his room and closing the door as Natalie turned to leave.

Suddenly beaming with untapped enthusiasm, Adrien bounced his way through his room, heading straight to his wardrobe and unearthing his school uniform from its depths. He quickly changed and packed up his gym clothes before grabbing his previously discarded school bag from beside his desk.

Almost giddy at this point, Adrien looked through his bag, reorganizing it from his hurried, slightly angry, early morning caching. He grabbed his tablet and gently added it to his bag.

Smiling brightly, Adrien checked over himself. He ran through his bags, ensuring he had everything he needed. He wondered how gym class would be, how much more fun it would be to have classmates, not trainers, and friends instead of tutors.  

In a whirl, he made his way downstairs, going through the motions, passing into the dining room, picking away at his breakfast, before Natalie joined him to escort him to the car with his driver. On their way out of the house, Natalie reminded Adrien of his new schedule, which she had just updated and sent to his email. Beside them, his driver silently stepped out of the car, his large body casting a shadow over them.

“Make sure you review your schedule on your way to school,” she instructed, “It contains all the pertinent information you will need for your classes today. After school, your driver will pick you up for your fencing lesson, after which you have a brief fitting at your father’s headquarters.”

Adrien nodded, reminding himself that behind her stern demeanour, Natalie had single-handedly convinced _the_ Gabriel Agreste to allow him to attend school. He smiled brightly at her as he reached for his tablet in his bag. “Yes, Natalie,” he replied as he stepped forward to the car door that his driver had opened for him, “I’ll be sure to do that.”

He hesitated briefly at the car’s threshold, before he swiftly turned around. Without giving it much thought, Adrien reached out and hugged her. “Thank you again, Natalie,” he squeezed his eyes tight, much like his arms that he had wrapped around her, oblivious to her shocked expression and stiff posture.

After a moment, Adrien was brought out of his daze of gratitude by a soft pat on his shoulder, “Of course Adrien,” Natalie returned, stepping out of his hold and coughing lightly into her hand.

And then shockingly, Natalie’s face relaxed, her shoulders lowered, and then her lips curled into a delicate smile. Adrien blinked in surprise.

“Have a good day Adrien,” she continued before she returned back to her mask of professionalism. “If you need anything, just call us,” a small twinkling of a smile touched her lips, at her side, the driver nodded in agreement.

And again he found himself in the backseat of the shiny silver car, whisked away and on his way to school once more, determined to make it through the front doors this time.

He glanced down at his schedule displayed on his tablet, large chunks of his days now taken up by school. The smile on his face grew impossibly bigger and he opened up his more detailed plans for the day to explore what was ahead of him.

Jittery and excited, Adrien looked up from between his tablet and the window at his side to watch as the sun danced over the street pavement, the hustle and bustle of early morning Paris erupting in a chorus of sights and sounds. He watched as he saw well-dressed business-like people on their way to work, tourists looking up curious from their guidebooks, and young people just like him making their way to school.

And just like that, the car pulled up once again at the entrance of this school, _Lyc_ ** _é_** _e_. This was it. He looked up at the concrete staircase leading up to the front door, at the moment it was inhabited by groups of students dressed just like Adrien. Some boys were sitting lazily on the steps, half-awake in the morning sunshine. Others were leaning against the arm rails, caught up in discussion, while most were making their way into the building. Adrien burst out of the car before his driver could even make his way to open it for him.

Taking a big breath he readied himself. Just as he was about to take a step forward, a large hand came down onto his shoulder and he looked up to see that his driver had joined him by his side. Not quite so gently, the quiet man patted him on the back in what must have meant to be an encouraging way, a small smile on his usual serious face. He raised his other hand, giving Adrien a thumbs-up. Adrien smiled brightly in return before his driver gave him one final pat that sent him forward towards the school.

Laughing under his breath, Adrien caught and balanced himself as he made his way into the school. He clutched the shoulder strap of his bag that sat across his chest with one hand as the other reached out to open the large door in front of him. The inside of the building was an odd mix of classic and modern. The large atrium at the entrance showcased a floor that was lined with large marble tiles with black and white patterned inlays decorating the center of the open room. The walls were half covered in rich red bricks, and the ceiling was opened to a second floor above, twin flashy silver staircases led up to the second floor, along with an elevator on one side of the room.

The atrium itself seemed to be a gathering place for teachers and students alike. Simple tables and benches littered the area, where many people had chosen to sit. The whole area was abuzz with conversation.

Adrien stepped further into the atrium, before turning down to the nearest hallway, where he could make out what looked to be a head office. He walked up to the counter, where an older, cheerful lady sat. Adrien stood straight and waited patiently to be acknowledged.

The women turned from the computer screen in front of her, as Adrien caught her attention and she tilted her head to the side, a large smile on her face, “Good morning, honey. How can I help you?” she inquired.

Adrien returned her smile, before bringing up his tablet from his bag, “Um, well I’m new…” he began, flicking a finger across the tablet screen and bringing up his class schedule and turning it towards the woman, “And I’m not sure where my classes are…”

“Oh, sure!” the lady replied, taking in the details of the schedule in front of her “Well welcome to Lycée François! Now, looks like most of your classes are on the second floor.” She scrolled down the list, “And gym class is held at the sports center a few blocks from here… but generally the teacher has everyone meet in the foyer at the bell and you make your way there all together.”

Adrien nodded.

“But let’s just start with your first class, OK?” the lady smiled, “Now, your literature class, Monsieur Mauvieux’s room, is room 204. Just take the stairs up to the second floor and it's one of the first doors, facing towards the front entrance. Once you get there just let your teacher know you’re new! Then they can guide you to your next class, alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” Adrien replied, placing his tablet back in his bag, “thanks very much!”

“It’s not problem,” she replied, glancing down at her watch, “Now you should head up to class now, so you have time to get settled and situated! But come on by during break or lunch and we’ll get you your own locker!”

“Okay,” Adrien returned, stepping back from the counter, “Thanks again.”

And with that Adrien made his way up to the second floor, looking around and quickly finding the right classroom. Standing up straight, shoulders back, he entered the room.

Taking in his classroom, Adrien’s eyes glazed over the wall of windows on once side of the room, bringing in all of the early autumn light into the space. Large wooden table desks took up most of the room, each row rising higher and higher above the other towards the back of the room. And at the front of the tables was the teacher desk, on which a small laptop was buried under a tornado of papers, books, and various things – like a chipped black mug. In the desk chair slumped a man – the same strange man that Adrien had ran into the day before – his head lay against the desk, his mouth wide open upon a pile of papers, snoring.

Adrien hesitantly stepped into the room and stood in front of the desk. He quietly coughed into his hand.

The man – who must have been the teacher, did not respond.

“Ummmmm…” Adrien voiced quietly, “Sir...?”

A loud snore replied, and a small trail of drool dribbled into his beard.

Adrien looked up at the clock above the classroom door, class would be starting shortly. Emboldened, slightly, he reached forward toward the one patch of cleared space atop of the desk and knocked gently. “Sir?” he repeated.

“Mmmmm…?”

Adrien knocked again a little louder, “Sir?”

The man flinched, sitting up straight in his chair, one hand reached to rub his eyes; the other ran through his curly dark hair.

“Wh – What!?” the man blinked, his hair flopped across his face, before he pushed it to the side. In the back, his hair stuck up wildly, curls askew and frizzy. The man scratched his beard, the action causing a glint of light to flare, dancing over an onyx ring on his right hand ring finger. As he continued his impromptu grooming, his sleepy eyes slowly started to clear as he took in Adrien in front of him.

“Damnit!” he exclaimed, staring down at his watch, his brow furrowed angrily. He paused shaking his wrist and taping the glass face, before heaving a defeated sigh, “What time is it?”

Adrien silently pointed up to the clock above the door.

The man let out another deep breath, “Of freaking course,” he muttered under his breath his unique accent playfully mixing into his speech. He looked up to Adrien, “You in this class kid?”

Adrien nodded, “I – I’m new.”

“Yeah, well so am I,” the man answered dryly. He looked up at Adrien, pausing for a moment. He tilted his head to the side, a flash of recognition sparked in his slightly bloodshot eyes. “Ahhh… You’re the kid from yesterday,” he nodded, crossing his arms across his chest, leaning back in his chair. If fact he leaned a little too far back in his chair, almost toppling over before catching himself on the edge of his desk.

“Um, I guess?” Adrien replied, fighting back a smile.

“Well, okay, welcome, welcome,” he yawned as he waved a hand lazily towards the room.

“Thank you…” Adrien responded hesitantly, as behind him, some students stared making their way into the classroom.

“Yeah, don’t worry kid,” the man continued, clearing his throat and randomly shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk, seemingly making more and more of a mess, “Take a seat wherever, I’m just subbing for today, so I’m new, just like you… we’ll be sure to do proper introductions and I’ll get someone to show you around the school, sound good?”

Adrien nodded again, as more students entered the room. He turned to take in the class, most of the kids entering the room quickly took to a seat, and Adrien made his way to the closest bench and took a seat in the front row. He perked up in his chair, watching as student after student passed by him, it seemed that most of his peers preferred to sit in the back of the room… or at least, no one seemed to want to sit up at the front next to him. He shifted in his seat, his hands trying to find something to distract himself with. He settled for reaching into his school bag and organizing his things on his desk. Nervously, he wondered if he should’ve perhaps sat a few rows back.

But as a bell sounded and the last few stragglers of students made their way to the classroom, the man at the front of the room arose from his chair, feebly trying to tighten his loosened tie. He cast a slightly irritated glance around the room before he cleared his throat once more, drawing everyone’s attention and bringing to a halt all conversation in the room.

“Mornin’,” he drawled, nodding to the class, “So Monsieur Mauvieux is ill, therefore I’ll be his replacement for today.”

He turned towards the chalkboard at the front of the class, quickly scribbling across the green expanse as he continued dryly, “For those of you who don’t know me… I’m Monsieur Billeeterah. You may have seen me in the library… I am the librarian here at François.”

He stepped away from his almost illegible scrawl of his name on the board, squinting at his handiwork and shrugging, “If you can’t read that, you can also just call me Mister B or Monsieur BT is fine.”

From the other side of the classroom Adrien faintly heard a muffled giggle. He turned to see a boy smirking. Beside him, his almost identical seatmate elbowed the laughing boy into silence. 

Monsieur Billeterah, who didn't notice the exchange, shoved a few scraps of paper to one side of his desk, revealing a tablet, which he promptly retrieved and glanced over. He looked up to the class and said, “For roll call today, I’m going to point to you, and you’re going to tell me your name. First name, last name, got it?”

Not waiting for a response, he walked up the side of the room walled with windows looking outside, pointing to one by one to each student. From the opposite side of the room, Adrien heated up in nervousness.

“Jean Duparc.” said the first student, who sat across the aisle from Adrien in the front row.

“Oooookay,” the teacher replied looking down at his tablet and pointing to the next student.

“Hiroshi Ito.” said the next student, twirling a pen in his shaky hand.

M. Billeeterah nodded, stepping forward to the next row.

“Mateo Ramos,” chirped the next boy. Beside him sat a boy that must have been his brother, the only difference between the two of them being that the other boy had slightly longer dark brown hair.

“Right, and let me guess,” Monsieur Billeeterah continued, pointing to the boy’s seatmate, “you’re Javier Ramos?”

The other boy nodded.

Monsieur Billeeterah tapped the screen of his tablet, taking another step forward, “Alright! Next!”

On it went.

“Max Kanté.”

“Kim Chiến Lê,” seemed to clash with his desk partner, Max, who sat up straight with perfect posture, thick black glasses giving him an air of intelligence. Where he was prim and proper, Kim looked more rebellious, wearing a bright red, zip up, sports hoodie over the white button-up shirt of his uniform.

“Ivan Bruel,” was one of the largest boys in the class, a bright streak of blonde bangs clashed against his dark brown hair he sat alone at his desk.

The teacher walked forward to the next row, marking off the students on his tablet. He reached the desk at the back of the room where another boy sat by himself, his arms crossed on the table and his head nestled on top. All Adrien could see was a mop of red-orange hair.

Pursing his lips M. Billeeterah, tapped the edge of the boy’s desk, startling him awake.

The boy shook the mess of red hair from his face, leaving his long fringe slightly out of his almost-turquoise-like eyes.

“Name?” the teacher asked.

The boy blinked rapidly, shocked into alertness and blushing in embarrassment, his cheeks morphing to match the colour of his hair. Ever so quietly, the boy voiced, “Nathanaël Kurtzberg… Sir.”

Barely pausing, M. Billeeterah glanced back to his tablet, marking off Nathanaël’s name and stepped towards the middle aisle of the room, continuing his attendance tally as he walked back to his desk.

The boy at the other side of the back of the class voiced his name, “Nino Lahiffe.” He wore a bright red hat over which were a large pair of headphones.

“… and check,” M. Billeeterah replied, marking him as present on his tablet. The man though paused, looking back at the boy, Nino, before continuing, “and if you would be so kind, please take off the headphones for class.”

Nino slumped in his chair, looking slightly bored as he removed the headphones, settling them around his neck.

The teacher raised an eyebrow before continuing on, pointing to the next student.

“Stéphane Leon.”

“Onyekachi Okanjo.”

“Nicolas Laroque.”

“Karim Remmert.”

It was just one more desk of students until it was Adrien’s turn to speak up. At this point he was almost fully turned on his chair to watch as M. Billeeterah walked around the classroom. He clutched his seat with sweaty hands.

“Jean Renou.”

Just one more student before Adrien was left. He gulped.

“Mathieu Mering.”

M. Billeeterah returned back to the front of the classroom, turning back to the class and coming to a rest, standing right in front of Adrien’s desk. Smiling slightly, the teacher raised a hand, snapping his fingers and pointing directly at Adrien.

“Alright,” the man drawled, “and last but not least…” He glanced up at Adrien. His eyebrows rose over his muddy green eyes, waiting for Adrien’s response.

“Um,” Adrien flinched slightly at his delay, “A-Adrien Agreste.”

Internally he winced, embarrassed by his stutter. But the teacher didn’t reprimand him, and the pressure on his shoulders lifted as M. Billeeterah carried on as he had with the other students, tapping at his tablet and turning to discard the device onto his desk.

“Great,” M. Billeeterah went on standing in front of the chalkboard. He removed his blazer, folding it other his desk chair and began to roll up the sleeves of his very wrinkled shirt up towards his elbows, as he continued, “C’est au boute… So, basically I’ve already forgotten everyone’s names” he chuckled, “so you’ll all have to bear with me today, I haven’t even had my morning coffee. I’m supposed to be in the library right now, so I’m out of my natural habitat, since the school wasn’t able to get someone at such a late notice… Plus you guys,” he pointed towards the Ramos brothers, “make the whole name thing real difficult, so if I get your name wrong, don’t take any offense.”

Some of the class chuckled in response, M. Billeeterah grinned, before saying, “Also, I know yesterday was the first day of school for you guys, but most of you may have noticed, we have a new student joining us today. So while I appreciate you all dealing with me today as a sub, I’d also like to make sure we give…” He looked up at Adrien, waving a hand in his direction, “Adrien, right?” To which Adrien nodded, cheeks warming from the attention. “Right, so make sure you give Adrien here a warm welcome…”

Adrien hunched slightly in his seat, too embarrassed to look up at the rest of the class, but he could feel the stares of his classmates on him. He looked up at M. Billeeterah who gave him an encouraging smile before turning back to his desk, reaching for a piece of paper at which he looked down at it with a mixture of boredom and slight exasperation.

“Right, so I’ve reviewed M. Mauvieux’s syllabus for this class, along with his lesson plans from yesterday and for today…” He paused raising a brow at the Ramos brothers who were quietly whispering to each other. In the silence, their voices seemed infinitely louder and they too seemed to grow aware of the attention. Looking up at the teacher they quickly bowed their heads low apologetically.

Undeterred, M. Billeeterah continued, “As I was saying… some of the books you will be reading this semester may leave a lot to be desired, but I assure you that reading – and more importantly discussion, understanding, and analysis are livelong skills that are invaluable and must be trained.

“Literature is a very broad and important subject. Like science and history it helps us to understand the world around us and also piques our creativity and can take us to worlds we can only imagine…”

Adrien smiled at the sentiment, fully caught up in the lecture, until he heard a crinkle of paper from the back of the room and a hushed muttered conversation from the other side of the room. Peeking out of the corner of his eye he watched as Kim, the boy in the red hoodie discretely tried to pass along a note to Ivan, boy behind him. In row in front of Kim, the Ramos brothers seemed to have resumed their hushed conversation, hurriedly whispering to each other under their breaths.

Unfortunately, for Kim, Ivan did not seem to be paying any attention to what Kim was trying to accomplish in front of him. Instead, he was seemed to be furiously scribbling in his notebook, completely ignoring the lesson and Kim’s attempts to get his attention.

The interruptions however were indeed noticed by M. Billeeterah, who stopped in his oration, to stare up at the class, his mossy-green, calculating eyes flashing in anger.

“Seriously? We’re not even 5 minutes into class…?” M. Billeeterah shrugged in exasperation, “You can’t wait for a more opportune time to pass a freaking note? Or just text him! What are we, leaving in the Middle Ages?! And really guys, it’s a pretty simple rule: If I’m talking, I would hope you would have the ability to listen. I will not need to remind you again, you guys aren’t kids anymore, right?”

Kim, who had flinched at the reprimand, seemed to quickly recover after being called out from the teacher. He tucked the note under his tablet and crossed his arms on his desk, masking his face with a look of feigned innocence that quickly melted into a cocky arrogant smile.

“Yeah so…” M. Billeeterah continued, his eyes squinting into an annoyed glare, “we’re going to do some feng shui up in here, so we can get through class without any further interruptions… sound good gentlemen?” He crossed his arms across his chest, and straightened up from his slightly hunched stance. The action further emphasized his height, especially with all the students seated. He towered over everyone. Adrien gulped.

“Jock boy,” the teacher gestured to Kim with a frown. The apropos nickname had some of the class laughing. M. Billeeterah walked up to Kim’s desk and pulled out the hidden note from beneath his tablet, “You’re switching seats with this guy in the front…” he paused, turning towards the boy in the front seat by the window, “What’s your name again, buddy?”

“Hiroshi, sir”

“Yeah, so you two can switch… and one of you guys,” he waved a hand at the Ramos brothers, "can swap with someone on that side of the room”

The twins faced each other, before turning back to M. Billeeterah and nodding. Mateo stood up, grabbing his belongings, and moved to switch with another student.

“And sleepy kid, move forward a seat and try to stay awake, yeah?” The redhead boy in the back of the class raised his head from his desk, nodding sluggishly, slowly rising to move from his seat.

“Eey!! And you… DJ LISTEN UP!” he raised his voice, gaining the attention other boy in the back of the class with the red hat, who in had sometime during the lecture snuck his headphones back on. Unimpressed, M. Billeeterah gestured to his head, “Dude, take off the headphones… you’re sitting up front with blondie here.”

Adrien tilted his head… Oh? Blondie? _I guess that’s me_ , he thought. And quickly the boy from the back of the classroom sat down in the seat beside him. He placed his headphones on the table, and Adrien could hear a muffled beat emanating forth.

M. Billeeterah walked up to the their desk, a hand outstretched, “Yeah, and I’m taking the tunes. And I got your letter,” nodding to Kim, “you boys can get them back at the end of class once you’ve demonstrated how to respectfully sit through a lecture.”

At that he unplugged the offending headphones from his phone, turning back to his desk, M. Billeeterah deposited the items to join the mess atop his desk. The boy – Nino – scoffed, breathing out a heavy sigh.

Adrien gave him a small smile, trying to silent convey empathy for his seatmate, who shared the look with a grin as if he knew he was testing the waters with the new teacher. He shrugged half-heartedly in defeat.

M. Billeeterah clapped his hands looking at the class with a mischievous smile, “Alright gentleman, now that we got that out of the way… let’s continue shall we?”

 

* * *

  

Natalie looked out the window, watching as a stream of students exited out the front doors of the school. Her sharp eyes on the lookout for a familiar mop of perfectly styled blonde hair.

The final bell had rung out a few moments ago and Natalie stared down at her tablet to recheck the time, glancing back up to the stairs every once and a while, pretending to busy herself with work.

In the front seat the driver gave out a grunt.

She peeked back out the window.

There he was.

And he was laughing.

In a group of about four or five other students, Adrien walked out the front door with his bags slung over his shoulder. One boy playfully knocked him on the shoulder before breaking off from the group jogging speedily down the staircase, another boy following his trail. Adrien eyes followed their departure and he perked up as he caught the familiar flash of silver of the car.

Turning back to his acquaintances, Adrien spoke a few words, and with a raised hand, waved goodbye. His posture slightly hunched either from the weight of his bags or perhaps due to nerves. His classmates shared the wave, smiling brightly. One boy even stepped forward, a fist raised – causing both Natalie and the driver to bristle in their seats until they saw Adrien return the gesture. The two bumped their fists together.

Adrien turned and slowly made his way down the steps. Straightening up as he came closer to the car. He beamed, a happy grin on his face.

From where she sat in the car, Natalie looked up to the front seat, eyes focusing on the rear-view mirror. She met her colleague’s eyes in the reflection and together they shared a pleased smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience guys, life just really got to me last year, did some travelling in september and got a new job, so writing for this fic feel on the back burner... and then i watched yuri!!! on ice and i started writing a totally different fic!! I'm hoping to continue my eurocup story as well, so we'll see how good i am at juggling multiple fics, so bare with me!! 
> 
> I have so many regrets, and the huge delay on this fic is one of them... but even worse is HOW LONG ITS TAKING FOR ME TO ACTUALLY GET TO THE VOLLEYBALL PLAYING!!! WTH!?!? seriously, my other sports au fic opened with so much figure skating and for this one my writing brain is cockblocking my intent to write volleyball action!!! >__<
> 
> Leave some feedback if you'd like :) Thanks for reading!! I post previews of chapters on my tumblr, so if you want to be updated on my writing, follow me there: powerdragonmoon.tumblr.com
> 
> **Update: Just realized billeetera is spanish for wallet >____> hahahaa, well thats what i get for trying to make up a last name!! ps. the origin of his last name is not spanish


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